Here are two hints:
1. If I typed out his name letter by letter some of you might still be like, “Que?”
2. The above does not apply if your ass still subscribes to BOP Magazine and has copies from 2004 stored in a Chinese Laundry shoe box under your canopy bed.
No, this is not Mickey Rooney wrapped in the Botoxed skin of Pinocchio. It’s 24-year-old Jesse McCartney at Comic-Con in San Diego yesterday!
Jesse McCartney obviously does not give three, two or even one fuck that he’s got a mouth that only Orajel could love. While most hos would cover that mess up with a Stormtroopers helmet, Jesse is working the camera with every inch of that sore. Get that Valtrex endorsement, bitch!
While I totally get that Jesse is a nudist when it comes to his cold sores, he could’ve dressed that shit up a bit. You know, throw some glitter on it. Stick a sore tassle on the end of it. Or since it’s Comic-Con, cover it in brown fur and say it’s a Wookie sore. But that Paris Hilton on his mouth is at the bottom of Jesse’s list of problems. At the top is…..
It’s like his brows got into a fight with his crow’s feet and the latter scratched out the former. Jesse has every right to make lips curl into mouths by flashing that sore, but he does not have the right to serve that tragic eyebrow situation to the public. Jesse needs to throw a brow toupee on those things until he gets them fixed by someone who is authorized to work a pair of Tweezers. Or those stray hairs on Jesse’s chin should be re-planted on his brows. I swear.
I can look past that sore and the fact that he’s got that Courtney Stodden’s shit (which is the new Benjamin Button’s shit), but I cannot look past those sad brows.