Drunkface McCord

November 2, 2009

The McFugd Family

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[Photo: WENN.com]


ANGEL MCCORD: I am a freaking GENIUS. Sexy Inmate 50035! Because if you look at the number from a distance, it kind of seems to say BOOBS! HA HA HA!

RACHEL MCCORD: I'm either dressed as Sexy D-List Wannabe, or Bobby Trendy. You decide!

ANNALYNNE MCCORD: The more I keep trying to shove my sisters down people's throats, the more people will start to appreciate me when I show up places alone.

ANGEL: BOOBS!

RACHEL: LOOK AT MEEEE!

ANNALYNNE: That's right, America. I am teaching you to love me, one half-naked sibling hanger-on at a time. BRILLIANT.

Drunkface McCord has a message for you:

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In two hours she'll be performing a sex-jams cover of "Material Girl" at the Playboy Lounge on the Lido Deck. Bring cash for tips and booze, but the pretzels are free.

P.S. If she holds a raffle for the shoes and the bag, I will buy 100 tickets.

September 15, 2009

FuggaLynne McFug

Check it: Drunkface doesn't have drunkface!

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[Photo: PacificCoastOnline.com]

But she DOES have Brazen Thigh Syndrome, which I define as a tragic resistance to considering pants, with an accompanying inability to distinguish tights from trousers (minor symptoms include wearing minidresses that bunch in your crotch, and wearing stockings that kind of look like you got bored at the bar and pulled out a Sharpie for some therapeutic doodling). Which is worse: chronic drunkface, or the debilitating refusal to care about the privacy of one's pubic region? I think I'll take the latter any day. So come back, Drunkface's drunkface. But only if you bring some pants with you.
September 2, 2009

9Fug210

Oh, DRUNKFACE. Your face is drunker than ever!

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I know Axl Rose, Drunkface. Axl Rose was a friend of mine (by which I mean if he hit me with his car, I'd be able to tell the cops that it was MOTHERF'ING AXL ROSE who ran me over). And you, Drunkface, are no Axl Rose.

Nor, in case you were wondering, are you Steven Tyler.

No, nor are you Bret Michaels (you need a bandanna for that).

No, I'm sorry, you are also not CC DeVille.

No, David Lee Roth also doesn't fly.

No, I'm very sorry, nor will I even accept Kid Rock.

Tacky '80s groupie, the likes of which I have seen in many an episode of Behind the Music, generally before a segment in which someone drives his car into a cliff/ODs on glue/loses a limb/decides to invest all his money in solid gold faucets?

Hmm.

Yes. Yes, that I will accept. Congratulations! I think you're supposed to flash us your boobs now.



Dude. You guys. Drunkface McCord can turn her head almost ALL THE WAY AROUND:

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Other than the fact that she's clearly AN ALIEN and she's FREAKING ME OUT, she looks pretty okay, right? But I admit it's possible that I'm so overcome with FEAR that I have lost my ability to reason. Obviously, I need your help. Oh, right. You need to see the rest:
May 22, 2009

Drunkface McFug

This dress isn't exceptional in any way -- good OR bad.

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But what gets me is that she wore it to an Upfront presentation that, as best I can tell, took place before lunchtime. Or at the very least, before the sun went down. Yet Drunkface looks like she's all dressed up in her very finest piece of almost-underwear and ready to hit a nightclub for some bottle service.

Although, actaully, the dress itself bugs me, too. That bodice, and the whole Fleet Week "Why, hello, sailor, I was just going to slip something on over this but maybe now I won't bother" vibe is just so cheesy and obvious. I'd sooner expect to see it on, say, Dina Lohan while she's out telling poor unsuspecting military boys that she's Lindsay's only slightly older sister, or maybe in the Melrose Place 2.0 clips that feature good ol' Laura Leighton reprising her role as Sydney, licking her chops like the drooling cougar they want her to be. Maybe Drunkface is auditioning in advance for the 2020 reimagining of 90210 -- in which her character is an aging hooker and Kelly and Brenda are fighting over Dylan's last two Viagra pills -- but methinks she'd be better off just getting a better stylist.
It may be that, after a week of digging through our archives to put Fug Madness together, I have become immune to certain things. It's like the GFY version of spending the last few years building up an immunity to iocane powder, so that the next time I get embroiled in a battle of wits that somehow involves looking at pictures of hideous things, I will, like the Dread Pirate Roberts, prevail. Now I just need to remember not to get involved in a land war in Asia. All that being said, I feel like Ol' Drunkface here looks pretty cute:

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Although it IS a bit like underwear, no?

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