Oh Dear

Well I just got so caught up in bashing celebrity couples that I didn't even comment on the outfits at the Golden Globes. I know it's late at this point, but I would be remiss if I didn't at least mention Mariah Carey. My god, what a joke!

I mean first of all, I don't know what the hell she was doing there in the first place, as her only cinematic endeavor, Glitter, spent about a minute and a half in the theaters before being placed on markdown at Blockbuster. Now I hear her album is selling well, which saddens me because it means that so many folks are supporting her habit. For all I know one of my fair readers could own their very own copy - I choose not to believe this of any of you, but you never know.

So anyway, her red-carpet outfit. Could she have been sausaged in that thing any tighter? Reminded me of my swimsuit competition is that horrible county pageant. You know Mariah goes through stylists about as fast as she goes through Twinkies, and not a one of them can get her ass in a pair of pants that don't look like the buttons are gonna spring free at any moment. She's put on a few, and you know I'm not one to judge, but when your thighs and your hips have the same circumference, you might not wanna wear the jean shorts cut up to your hoo-ha.

And can someone please tell her that she's not thirteen, so the butterfly shit has got to GO! I mean seriously. You are a grown-ass woman covering yourself in diamond-studded insects. You look like a fool. I don't know what kind of meds you're on, but honey you need to start snappin' those pills in half and take a hard look in the mirror. I know "classy" is not your forte, but you have too much money to go about like trailer trash- it's insulting to mobile home owners everywhere.

Someone needs to tell this woman: The days (and the figure) of the midrif top are long gone, and you'd do well to find yourself a loose-fitting robe and call it a day.