The People's Choice Awards!
We really couldn't care less who won what. We, the people of this blog, care only about the fashion!
Stacey: I'm not allowed to comment on this picture. Ever since I saw New Moon with my stepdaughters and confessed to how shockingly hot I found this boy, my husband has been prowling around the house in a werewolf-like rage. At one point he even called me a dirty old woman, which led to a big argument about the difference in our ages versus the age difference between Taylor and I and whether the hubs would feel like a pervert for finding a 22-year-old-woman attractive and then...well, it's just been...unpleasant. So yeah. No comment. (Hot!! So hot! And he's gotta turn 18 eventually!)
Stacey: Feb. 11th it is!! Wheeee!!!
Stacey: Grrr.....she does not deserve Taylor boy. She's too pure and perfect and busy singing about how the rest of we chicks "threw away our love on boys who changed their minds" while she achieved all her "big dreams". Suck it, Swift. You're not better than we are! And kissing around on boys can still be fun even when they--or you--change your minds at a later date. (Analogy: We might regret eating the chocolate cake when we can't fit in our jeans, but we can always go on a diet. You, however, will never have known the yumminess of the chocolate cake. We feel sorry for you, Taylor. We really, really do.)
Stacey: Unfortunately for Taylor boy, I'm taken. But I'm sure my nearly sixteen year old stepdaughter would love to offer comfort! Lol!
Stacey: What's she trying to prove? With that watermelon tummy and scrawny rest-of-her? The swollen-all-over, 200 pound woman I was a little over a year ago kind of hates her. A lot.
Stacey: Is that a rat tail? For real? I'm...speechless.
Stacey: I'm depressed now. Their black and greyness hath brought me low.
Stacey: Why is he so shiny all over? He looks slippery, in the oiled pig kind of way. (And we Arkansas girls know what one of them looks like.)
Stacey: I was wondering where all the bows I bought for the kids' Christmas presents got off to. And here I'd been thinking they were lost in the move.
Stacey: He's fourteen years older than I am. FOURTEEN! Yet, would anyone think it gross if I thought he was cute or he thought I was cute? NO! They wouldn't! So what's the big deal about the fifteen years between me and my werewolf? There is no big deal. So take that, hubs and the rest of you sexist jerks who are trying to make me feel bad for appreciating a younger man. Cougar, out.
We really couldn't care less who won what. We, the people of this blog, care only about the fashion!
Stacey: I'm not allowed to comment on this picture. Ever since I saw New Moon with my stepdaughters and confessed to how shockingly hot I found this boy, my husband has been prowling around the house in a werewolf-like rage. At one point he even called me a dirty old woman, which led to a big argument about the difference in our ages versus the age difference between Taylor and I and whether the hubs would feel like a pervert for finding a 22-year-old-woman attractive and then...well, it's just been...unpleasant. So yeah. No comment. (Hot!! So hot! And he's gotta turn 18 eventually!)
Julie: Control yourself, Stace, becauseaccording to Wikipedia, he's going to turn 18 in just FOUR WEEKS! (February 11th) Perhaps we should do a blog dedicated to him on that day with lots of pictures. Shirtless pictures. Did you see him host Saturday Night Live? He did a BACK FLIP. And a bunch of kung fu-ish fighting moves. Except I do have trouble letting go of the image of him as a little kid in Sharkboy and Lavagirl.
Stacey: Feb. 11th it is!! Wheeee!!!
Stacey: Grrr.....she does not deserve Taylor boy. She's too pure and perfect and busy singing about how the rest of we chicks "threw away our love on boys who changed their minds" while she achieved all her "big dreams". Suck it, Swift. You're not better than we are! And kissing around on boys can still be fun even when they--or you--change your minds at a later date. (Analogy: We might regret eating the chocolate cake when we can't fit in our jeans, but we can always go on a diet. You, however, will never have known the yumminess of the chocolate cake. We feel sorry for you, Taylor. We really, really do.)
Julie: She is pure and perfect, yet strangely--I love her. Normally I would despise her and make snarky comments about her squinty eyes, but instead I think they're cute. But you're right; she definitely doesn't deserve him. And she's apparently ditched him! (or so the gossip blogs are saying). Her stupidity is your opportunity, Stacey. You could comfort him in his time of need.
Stacey: Her spiderweb apron is on backwards. I have the same one. Common mistake...when you're blond.
Julie: The dress is kind of--well, spidery but those shoes kick ass, I must say. I want them. Too bad they probably cost more than my car.
Stacey: I think she has some sort of weaponry strapped to her chest.
Julie: She's like the goth Princess Leia.
Stacey: What's she trying to prove? With that watermelon tummy and scrawny rest-of-her? The swollen-all-over, 200 pound woman I was a little over a year ago kind of hates her. A lot.
Julie: She's trying to prove that Teri Hatcher isn't the only one who can hide stuff inside her dress.
Stacey: Snarf!
Stacey: Snarf!
Stacey: Is that a rat tail? For real? I'm...speechless.
Julie: You're worried about the rat tail? I'm more concerned about those black shiny . . . things hanging off her dress. What are they? Windchimes? Shredded paper?
Stacey: I don't care. The rat tail blinded me with its Scary and I hardly noticed the outfit.
Stacey: I'm depressed now. Their black and greyness hath brought me low.
Julie: I have no idea who these people are, but clearly they weren't invited for their sparkling auras and eye-catching style, so at least one of them must be famous, right? Or related to somebody famous? They're like Mr. & Mrs. Desolate. They should be on an anti-depressant commercial. "Depression hurts". . . my eyes.
Stacey: Why is he so shiny all over? He looks slippery, in the oiled pig kind of way. (And we Arkansas girls know what one of them looks like.)
Julie: The used car salesman you wish had sold you that Toyota.
Stacey: She's like a delicate, flowery dumpling. I want to dip her in sweet and sour sauce and eat her. Or maybe just eat her dress.
Julie: You know what she reminds me of? One of those scented sachets filled with potpourri that you put in your dresser drawers. I want to tie a ribbon around her and tuck her in between my socks and underwear.
Stacey: YES! She would make your underthings smell like jasmine....or something.
Stacey: I was wondering where all the bows I bought for the kids' Christmas presents got off to. And here I'd been thinking they were lost in the move.
Julie: If only she'd had the guts to pull the whole thing together by wearing a giant, matching bow on her head, Minnie Mouse style. At least then I could have given her points for ballsiness. Go big or go home, bow girl.
Stacey: He's fourteen years older than I am. FOURTEEN! Yet, would anyone think it gross if I thought he was cute or he thought I was cute? NO! They wouldn't! So what's the big deal about the fifteen years between me and my werewolf? There is no big deal. So take that, hubs and the rest of you sexist jerks who are trying to make me feel bad for appreciating a younger man. Cougar, out.
Julie: Ahhh, Johnny Depp. On anybody else this outfit would conjure up words like "unemployed" or "homeless," but somehow he just looks hot. But then again, I guess that's why People made him Sexiest Man Alive.
Tune in next week for our discussion of stylish final resting places.
xoxo
Stacey and Julie
I am DEFINITELY thinking a blog is in order the day that Taylor turns 18.... then all of us "adult" females can think all the naughty thoughts we want..... Much love!!! Jacki
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