oh good god, I'm addicted. Go fug yourself is totally feeding my inner bitch. Take, for example, this recent piece on Paula Abdul;

"July 21, 2006

Fugga Abdul
It's been quite an active few years for global disasters, both natural (tsunamis, earthquakes, hurricanes) and unnatural (leggings, Paris Hilton's singing career). But sometimes you stumble upon a phenomenon that can't be easily classified.
Such is the curiosity that has befallen Paula Abdul's chest.

[Photo courtesy of X17. click to enlarge]
Ignoring for a second the hollow pod in the middle of her torso, allow me to state the obvious: Wow, that's bad. What an unflattering garment-- no breast support, and baggy and misshapen cups that make her chest look less like a mass of woman-flesh and more like an old beanbag that's been kicked around, lost some of its punch, and turned a little beady.
As for the Sternum of Doom... what meteor carved that crater? Did her pact with the devil go bad? Did Simon Cowell carve it out with a spoon? Did it sacrifice itself to become a chin or cheek implant? Did a nearby stripper accidentally ding her by sneezing while launching a ping-pong missile out of her nether region? Did she have herself turned into a human shot-glass, the better for mischief in Cancun?
Because I don't think the Pit of Despair was always there.

This photo is from the Grammy's back in February. I can't see a fleshy sorbet dish there, can you? Or is it just masked by a bra that might be the most resplendent feat of architecture known to man, plumping her up to the heavens?
Whatever it is, the deep and bizarre torso pit -- classified abdullis hollowitis -- is unusual indeed and must be studied with great care. "