So… they can’t all be winners. If I were Tim Gunn, I would furrow my brow, cup my chin, put my other hand on my hip (shoulder forward as if to suggest with my very posture that I really don’t like this piece) and say, “Hmm. I’m concerned. I’m not sure where you’re going with this. Is it some kind of alien embryo? Did you eat some paint and then vomit it onto the canvas? Is it Cindy Lauper’s sink? I think that at this point you might want to consider starting over from scratch.”
And I will, Tim. Tomorrow. For now, I suggest you head on over to icanhascheezburger, or cakewrecks, or some other sure-to-please blogtasticness to help cleanse your mind of this unfortunate debacle that is Day 8.