Seriously, Court? You need to back off of the plastic surgery and botox. Also, you need a sandwich. Something.

Because? You're freaking me out. I mean, you've always freaked me out, with the attitude and the drugs and that-whole-smeared-lipstick-and-tiara thing (which, granted, I tried and failed to emulate, but still), but now you just look like you've clawed your way out of some shallow grave after about two weeks' decomposition, and that look? Is not good.

Pull it together, girlfriend, before some well-meaning undertaker accidentally tries to cremate you.

(Also? Please do not wear tinfoil. Kthnxbye.) 

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