Celebrity feud alert – Me vs. Adam Lam(e)bert

I know, I know, he didn’t even win American Idol and he barely has the star power to be a part of a celebrity feud, but I guess he is content with. Being dragged into the ring, clinging to my coat tails and trying to bask in the reflective glow of my superstar shine. Hardly surprising, given the nature of the beef though. For too long now, we have all ignored the elephant in the room, (that isn’t a joke about his weight, but if the muumuu fits, eh) and by not standing against him or calling him on his bs sooner, we all only have ourselves to blame for what this has become and the battle that may ensue now that I am finally addressing the situation and calling the slightly less sassy and totally contrived faggot out for years and years of jacking my motherf*cking swag.

Now let me present to you just a small number of exhibits clearly showing times where Adam Lambert has blatantly tried to imitate or replicate what only I can achieve  so effortlessly. Jokes on him because he comes off as a watered down, chunky, less hot, poor mans imitation of me that will never be able to replace the OG bad bitch. 

It’s like he is Tofu and I’m a porterhouse steak.”

“I’m clearly Chanel, he is barely H&M.”

Ladies and gentleman of the jury, let me present you the evidence…

One morning, while flipping channels I thought I saw myself on screen, but wow, they say that the camera adds 10 pounds,this looked like at least 20kg had plonked themselves onto what I thought was my usually thin frame. Upon flipping backwards through the channels, I was both suprised and a little.. hmm I’m not sure what the right word is to describe what it was that I felt, but it was a little niggle in my head letting that left a lingering uncomfortable energy within me. Why? You are probably asking at this point. Well, this was just after I began lightening my hair, and I was loving my fresh bronde/ caramel locks more than Adam Lambert would seem to love cake and in particular, the colour looked amazing when I wore my much loved leopard print tee – it became an unofficial signature look of mine and I always received compliments on my glowing (fluorescent) tan and bleached by the beach effect lighter hair when worn. I guess he overheard somebody giving me mad style props and wanted somebody to say those things about him, because there he was, fake tanned, lightened hair and sporting an eerily similar leopard print tee, albeit more than a couple of sizes larger than my own petite article. 

Okay, maybe he shouldn’t yet be put on stalker-watch high alert and this alone would not call for a feud as epic and longstanding as what this has become, but it didn’t stop there. I started noticing more and more looks, traits  and actions that were clearly being put on, in an attempt to be more like me. He must have noticed me at his concert that one time, yes, I went to the concert, and I have already expressed how deeply embarrassed I am so can we please, just like, not make a big deal right now? We all have skeletons in our closets and photos of bad haircuts, if you don’t want me to go digging into your past I suggest you stop your . Anyway he must have formed some kind of creepy infatuation with me upon sight alone and ever since been moniroring my life and trying to live out his own with a deluded fantasy of being me. To be honest, it’s all really ‘single white female’ and if I ever were to go missing, I would not be suprised if Adam had skinned me so that he could wear my skin as a coat – and I want that to be put on the record…. just in case. 

Fur is my thing, and didn’t somebody explain to him that as a ‘plus size gay’, he should avoid anything that adds bulk, especially fur, as he has enough of his own without it. I however, slay the look, obvi, I look great in fur. 

I created being overtly fem, caking on too much makeup and pouting. Not to mention chunky chains – we all know who made chunky chains happen (me)

But wait, there’s more…

Really, the original high?

I’m the ORIGINAL HIGH, thank you very much. 

My sparkling, blue peepers often dazzle people and I receive no shortage of compliments on their brilliant shade of blue

While mine are 100% natural… rumour has it a certain emo pop flop cannot claim the same about the colour of his own, which aren’t nearly as nice a shade as mine, anyway. 

(I may be the start of that rumour and have no factual evidence… shhh)

Now, this could go on forever, but this post has already lasted longer than his career so I will spare you the pain of wasting more time than you already have on the ‘singer’ and present one final exhibit. 

I’m not 100% sure if he is holding a rat and pretending it’s a chihuahua or if it’s a really unfortunate looking pooch, but even his dog is a poor imitation of my pure bread teacup chihuahua, Trumpet. 

As previously stated, there is no shortage of photos where Adam’s clear obsession with me has been apparent in his style, and while they say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, this is starting to get a little scary and I’m considering contacting the authorities and puttingb an AO order between us just as a precaution.

But I;ll let you be the judge, am I imagining this or can you see it to? Please let me know. If yoyu are team Sassy Queer (as if you wouldn’t be) please pledge your support in the for of a coment to help assist my case if and when this matter proceeds to a court room.


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