The only reasonable explanation for this is that a swarm of locusts stole Xtina’s red lip paint and the guest of wind from the four horsemen riding by pulled the 7 layers of bronzer out of her pores. Because this picture of a nearly SANS FARDS Xtina out with her boyfriend in NYC last night is what the stamp on your Apocalypse invitation would look like. Even her teeth have dimmed out of sadness because they don’t have a frame of red lipstick around them. Seriously, this is image is making every cosmetics mogul assume the fetal position while contemplating their futures.
This look is what I like to call “hospital chola.” It’s what you would see if you visited a chola friend or relative in the hospital after she gave birth to the son she named after an oldies crooner (cholas love oldies more than they love Starter jackets). Bitch is too exhausted to pick up a Sharpie so she slaps on some fake eyelashes, dusts herself with Jordana eye powder and calls it a day.
Since it is Mother’s Day, I will stop here. And it’s not right for us to slap at Xtina while she’s being attacked by a crimped beast who escaped from the compost pile of weaves in Brit Brit’s backyard.