Monday, February 16, 2009
Take a look at this picture for a minute or two and tell me the hair on the back of your neck doesn't stand on end, that your pets don't start to freak out a little bit, that your bowels and bladder don't loosen and now you've ruined your favorite computer chair.
Something is going on here, you guys... something wicked this way comes and it's vaguely Hispanic. Let me catalogue for you the ways that the above picture is deeply, deeply unsettling and is, perhaps, a portent to the end of the world (or at least an interesting day for the scummy folks at TMZ):
-Her face stops about an inch before her hairline. You can try to tell me all day that it's just poor make-up application, but C-dog ain't no dummy; that's her human face/mask not being properly attached to the top of her inner robot casing.
-He looks like he's about halfway through the process of that Jesus spell that the Nazi guy got in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade that made him age all quickly and then die. It seems Marc Anthony chose... poorly.
-She's smiling too wide, like she just ate a hitchhiker to death with her bare hands; there's madness behind her eyes, too, and I'd bet real, American dollars that that heart-shaped purse actually contains a real, human heart (for later snacking).
-They're not holding hands... they're pressing their palms together like two aliens who are a little hazy on the details about how humans interact with each other. J. Lo and Marc Anthony are aliens, y'all.
-His jacket is just a pencil sketch floating around his whithered body. How does he do that? Did he find it in the cave with the Holy Grail?
-Behind them, the bald visage of all our disapproval watches them... waiting... or maybe it's just their publicist or something. If so, he needs to tell them to stop looking like big ol' freaks.