Sunday, April 1, 2007

My God: She's Ugly


Well. Knock me over with a feather. I can hardly believe it (I guess I just never saw a detailed photo of her).

Nicole Kidman is ugly.

What is it about her upper lip? Fat in the corners and thin up top? What?

Check out those eyelids - she looks asian (time for a lift sweetie).

There's an odd bit of flesh protruding from the side of her face (implant?).

Her hair resembles that of a cancer patient with a bad comb-over. It's thin, crinkly looking and has short bits sticking up.

Am I crazy? Is this the worst photo of Nicole you've ever seen? I always thought she was classic looking (if a bit of an ice queen). Tall, thin, stately, groomed to within an inch of her life. An unconventional beauty, but beautiful nonetheless.

Okay, my snark is all in fun. But honestly, what's up with this terrible pic! A word of advice to Nicole: have your PR gofer yank this one back from the public domain.

I have to say, there once existed a single photograph of me so heinous that when I saw it I nearly went into cardiac arrest. Needless to say it doesn't exist any longer. Let me tell you the story.

Some years ago I went to Las Vegas on a business trip. My colleague and I went to the "Stratosphere" sight-seeing building. At that time there were two "rides" (aka torture devices) on the top. One ride being a rollercoster contraption that was affixed on the EXTERIOR of the widest part of the structure. The other ride being a car that rides straight up and down the Stratosphere's spire.

At the time, it seemed more safe to partake in the ride that went straight up over the roof structure rather than the ride that dangled over the edge without benefit of safety net. I should have known better.

We climbed into a car, sitting upright, and a harness came down over our shoulders. About the time I realized that my harness didn't lock down, the fucking car took off into the air without a shred of warning. The G-forces alone from the initial take-off peeled my lower eyelids and corners of my open, screaming maw down. It was possibly the single moment in my life of utter, sheer, uncompromised terror.

As luck would have it, the ride designers built in a camera that catches with perfect precision that fraction of an instant. So when you climb off the ride in your piss soaked glory they attempt to sell patrons the photographic evidence of one's folly.

I hadn't realized that a photo had been taken and the expression I saw on my face literally defies description - other than to say I looked like a monster.

So, in an odd way I sympathize with Nicole.

--Shella

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