Ain't Nothing Like The Real Thing, Baby!

As the resident Twitarded 'waxpert' (a title just recently bestowed upon me by Snarkier Than You), I wanted to do a little follow up to the waxy post from this past Sunday. Today, both Madame Tussaud's locations in New York and London revealed the Robert Pattinson wax figure to hoards of screaming fans. I couldn't be there because I'm far away, and I'm starting to question Jenny Jerkface's commitment to this blog because she couldn't even be bothered to get off her lazy ass and head on over to Time's Square this morning for a looksy. Work is for pussies, Jenny.

Ta-daaaaaaa! Come to mama! Oh right, you're not real and you can't walk so wait there, I'm on my way!

Um, hands off 'the precious' bitches. Don't make me come down there and open up a can of big ol' whoopass on you sluts.

I think the finished product is great. I love what they've done with his hair and the outfit is perfect... the fucking white v-neck t-shirt makes me a bit sweaty. But something just isn't right and my inability to figure it out is really starting to piss me off. So I spent an absurd amount of time this morning pouring over pictures of Waxy Pattz and comparing them to some of my favorite smirky Rob photos to try and figure out what's off.

Is it just me, or does smirky Rob look like he's up to no good? And by no good, I mean he's thinking about doing dirty things to me.

I came to the conclusion, after hours of research... it's definitely his mouth. There's just something amiss with that amazing mouth. I even went so far as taking screen caps from the ET video and compared them side by side with the real thing. (As you can tell, not much work was getting done today in my world.) Is it his lips? Is it the space between his nose and upper lip? Is it the laugh lines? Fucked if I know. Can you figure it out? For chrissakes ladies, we spend enough time staring at his mouth, we should be able to figure this out.



And also I think he eyebrows need to be a little darker. And personally, I would have liked a thicker beard. And maybe a little bulge in his britches. And maybe not the pointy shoes. And why did they need to hide the finger porn? I know, I'm a picky whore, but who cares.

Watch out O Waxy One, I'm coming for you!

Don't worry, none of the flaws in the waxy RPattz will keep me from fondling the shit out of him and determining for myself if they made him anatomically correct. I've already got some of my photo shoot poses planned. One of just us in a loving embrace that I can show off to my family. One of me kneeling in front of him (checking to make sure his zipper is working, of course!) One of me cupping his waxy balls. One of me dry humping his leg. I'm pretty sure by the time I'm finished with him, Madame Tussaud's will have pinned a lifetime ban on my whorey ass. It will be totally worth it though... now if I can just convince Mr. Latchkey that a trip into the City is a good idea, I can set my evil plan in motion.