Gaga Laboratories really outdid itself this time.
Here, she's styled herself into an Aztec dominatrix with a sprained neck who lives in the basement of Radio City Music Hall, jealously haunting the patrons whose heads have a full range of motion.
But you guys, as grating and dull as I find her antics of late, and as unnecessary and disturbing and unappealing I found the VMA performance in which she ended up splattered in fake blood and feigning death-by-hanging or whatever (really sensitive, too, considering the first chunk of the telecast was honoring an artist who died before his time), I almost finally fell in love with Lady Gaga when I saw this photo:
Here, she's styled herself into an Aztec dominatrix with a sprained neck who lives in the basement of Radio City Music Hall, jealously haunting the patrons whose heads have a full range of motion.
But you guys, as grating and dull as I find her antics of late, and as unnecessary and disturbing and unappealing I found the VMA performance in which she ended up splattered in fake blood and feigning death-by-hanging or whatever (really sensitive, too, considering the first chunk of the telecast was honoring an artist who died before his time), I almost finally fell in love with Lady Gaga when I saw this photo:
She looks like the victim of a tragic Chrismas cracker accident that left her forever shrouded in her own dining-room wallpaper and burned the novelty hat to her skull. Eminem can't seem to decide whether to hug her or call an ambulance. If Superman ever decides to use some red kryptonite to build a Fortress of Murderous Rage, she's totally going to be his housekeeper.
