Carrie Fisher finds the debate over how crappy she looked in the new Star Wars pretty tiring. She admits her body hasn’t aged well since Jedi. She failed to mention of her sub-par acting, smokers voice, or lethargic tenor in her scenes. Harrison Ford looked like a spry Pan compared to her and he’s 12 years older.
Please stop debating about whether or not I aged well. Unfortunately it hurts all three of my feelings. My body hasn’t aged as well as I have.
Fisher goes on to explain that her body is but a vessel for her mind which remains highly spirited. She neglected to mention her bloated vessel was the one that cashed the check from Disney.
Fisher’s dig’s at body criticism might make more sense were she not engaged in an almost entirely superficially driven industry. Models understand that when they get fat, they get fired. Hand models don’t work when the psoriasis is flaring. Nobody gives a shit how Stephen Hawking looks crumpled up in his scooter. Why not consider astrophysics as a career?
Fisher body shaming defenders insist that her character is no longer a princess, but a military general and should be judged thusly as to looks. Have you seen high ranking women in the military? They look like ageless high school lesbian P.E. teachers. Rope climb before breakfast, some pussy, and burpees before lunch.
Bottom line, you failed to get in shape for the movie and you know it. Mark Hamill shed weight, Harrison Ford got reasonably trim. Shut the fuck up and stop reading the papers. There are no fat generals in space.
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