Sheryl Crow

Sheryl. Sheryl, Sheryl, Sheryl. SHERYL. You are debunking your own lyrical statement that if it makes you happy, it can't be that bad. Because I think this IS that bad.

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If you thought we'd be too consumed with the Oscars to notice that your petticoat is showing underneath that skirt that looks like an ancient world map drawn by someone who thought we floated in an ocean of blood -- or that you are wearing a bright white bra as a shirt -- then you were sorely mistaken. WE SEE ALL. Thanks, in part, to you wearing a transparent sweater. It's kind of like playing Hide and Seek by standing behind a lamp. Remind me never to tell you a secret, because it seems you're not great at keeping things under wraps.
April 9, 2007

Fugyl Crow

You know how once you declare you hate a song, it immediately gets stuck in your head, and you can't get it out? And it wiggles around in there like a nasty little sonic worm, inciting first a headache and then a murderous rage? That is basically my relationship to almost all of Sheryl Crow's songs. There was an especial blue period when "If it MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAKES you HAAAAPPYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY, it can't be that BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAD" was all the rage on the radio, contradicting its own message because that song obviously made somebody very happy, and yet it was that bad. So bad. It started out annoying, then graduated to wailingly, discordantly maddening, and finally I'm pretty sure I just went into a fugue state.

I had a similar problem with this outfit.

Initially, I found it confusing, but passed it by blithely. Then, I couldn't get it out of my head. And I went back to the picture and studied it anew. Suddenly, I was bothered. What's up with the shrunken, shriveled vest that's making her waist look nonexistent? Why isn't she boosting her assets with a bra? What is her regimen for that fantastic skin? And for the love of GOD, is that a TAIL between her legs? Did she mean to look like she's in the middle of giving birth to a fully clad forest nymph? Is she merely advertising a new brand of sanitary style for the starlets of today who prefer not to wear panties with their tiny skirts, and need some kind of portable seat liner when they decide to sit down? What is going on, Sheryl?

I can't stop wondering. I wish I could, but this outfit is stuck in my head, and now I can't get it out. Much like the song of hers that this getup just conjured: "A Change Will Do You Good," whose repetitive, plodding refrain just shot up from hell and took root straight between my ears.

"Hey guys, if I could just present this award real fast, because I have to pee?

Also, I know you're all wondering why I'm dressed like a walking banana with a big old bite taken out of it, but I can't tell you that, because, frankly, I have no idea what I was thinking when I decided I should borrow this dress from my neighbor, who was a showgirl at the Tropicana in 1974.  I guess I thought it would be festive. But everyone's going to slam me for it, aren't they? I should have known when Lance said, 'THAT is MY favorite mistake' when I came out of the bathroom. I thought he meant me, in general, but now I know he means my outfit, specifically. So, yes, I know, I look like a cross-dressing, jaundice-afflicted Iggy Pop, but I'm here to present an award, so let's just get it over with so I can get back to the line for the ladies room. I really don't trust Kelly Osbourne to hold my spot for very much longer."

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