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August 12, 2014 | celebrity | Lex Jurgen | 0 Comments
I’m not sure what Lady Gaga turns into when she bursts out of her pupae, but I’m going to guess one very fat butterfly with floppy butterfly tits. Whatever they pay the team of eunuchs who re-costume Lady Gaga in between numbers, it’s not nearly enough. As her body continues to slide into Bosc shape, Sstretching those nylons and nettings and boudoir Spandex around her frame becomes an increasingly hazardous occupation. You get your finger caught in that Chinese trap and it’s not coming back. Ever. You’d have a safer workplace on a remote North Sea oil platform. You know, if you didn’t mind being gang raped each night after shift.
At the end of the day, looks aren’t want brings in the audience for Lady Gaga. It’s mostly social retardation and hallucinogens. Her army of cutters and anxiety medicated Breakfast Clubbers won’t abandon her simply because she’s slowly morphing into the Mayor of Toronto. They will abandon her because she keeps producing the same song over and over again.
Photo Credit: AKM-GSI