There was plenty of shockingly awful (see futuristic Tina and Beyonce, above) fug at last night’s Grammys awards show. I find that like stink on a gorilla, fashion disasters seem almost intrinsic to an award show. The more stink, the merrier.

And speaking of stink, let’s start with Nas and girlfriend Kelis, promoting his new album “Nigger” and what’s sure to be a big hit with college-educated African-Americans everywhere — his new fashion line NegroWear!^TM:

Rihanna did her best wounded exotic bird in a ruffled cobalt blue Zac Posen disaster. I see they got the feathers, but for the tar, try Nas’s NegroWear!^TM brand lynchin’ tar:

Miley Cyrus and her devil eyes showed up in a white sequined Celine dress and hair extensions she forgot to curl:

Beyonce donned a hideous beaded tulle Elie Saab gown she probably borrowed from Candyland’s Princess Frostine:

Melissa Joan Hart’s dress is okay; her hair color, lack of makeup and general fatness are not. I know she’s pregnant, but that’s way too much bloat:

Cher came in costume as Goth Cowardly Lion.

Carrie Underwood’s floral Zuhair Murad isn’t great, but it isn’t fabulous, either. It’s the hair helmet that bothers me. It looks like a damn tranny wig:

The Grammys last night were all about freshly-rehabbed singer Amy Winehouse, who took home a total of five trophies for Record of the Year, Song of the Year, Best Pop Vocal Album, Best British Accent of the Year (narrowly beating out Britney Spears), and Best Naked Lady Tattoos of the Year. The only award she didn’t scoop up was “Album of the Year,” who went to some jazz queer with the word “cock” in his last name.¹ Although her visa was finally approved Friday night, it came too late, so Amy performed “I’m No Good” and “Rehab” from London via satellite with nary a hint of the Bells Palsy and mini-strokes that plagued her earlier live performances. Just a slight drooping of the mouth and something I like to call “bubble voice,” which is how your voice sounds when a burp bubble lodges in your throat and never breaks free. Side note: she changed the words in “I’m No Good” from “on the kitchen floor” to “7-6-1-4.” I have no idea if this is husband Blake’s cell block number (she gave him a total of three shout-outs last night), the 1994 ambient music album by Global Communication, or the total number of grams she inhaled over the last year. It’s a Winehouse mystery!

Click here for the complete list of winners

¹_{NOT making that up.}

Amy Winehouse won’t be performing at the Grammys this weekend after all. London’s The Sun says

The singer applied for a visa to attend Sunday’s Grammys bash - but was denied as officials found traces of an un-named illegal drug in her blood following the test at the US Embassy in central London. Pals said… Amy was “desperate” to perform at the Los Angeles bash - where she is up for six awards - adding: “It was her main incentive to get clean.” Amy is now expected to perform via a live satellite link to the awards ceremony.

Amy says she’s determined to stay on the path to clean and sober regardless of disappointing visa news, and she’s taken the next logical step toward sobriety by moving in with a family of former addicts. Yep, there’s no way she can fail now! According to Page Six

She’s moving in with Ozzy and Sharon Osbourne and their daughter, Kelly, in the guesthouse of their estate outside London. The stick-figured singer is a longtime pal of Kelly, also a former rehabber.

Well, if Courtney Love and Pete Doherty weren’t accepting roommates and Richard Pryor and John Belushi are all dead, I guess living with the Osbournes will have to do for now. Unless, of course, you can legally set up residence inside a keg and have all your mail delivered via syringe. Then it’s welcome to the hotel Amy Winehouse!¹

¹_{You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave.}

Still sober Amy in London on Tuesday:

Amy Winehouse was photographed leaving rehab yesterday a cup size bigger and looking like she’d actually slept, sparking rumors that she may have checked out of the Capio Nightingale clinic early. Not so, according to The Boston Herald:

Amy Winehouse, looking healthier than she has in a while, took a brief trip out of rehab yesterday to meet with officials at the American Embassy in London in the hopes of obtaining a visa and attend Sunday’s Grammy Awards in L.A. “She has not left rehab and remains under the care of the clinic,” her rep said. As of yesterday her rep said “no decision” had been made about a trip to California.

Pretty soon, Amy’s not even gonna need rehab. A pharmaceutical company in the U.K. has already developed a vaccine for cocaine, and the gene for alcoholism was identified almost four years ago. The user’s future is now, folks. That’s why I’m jumping on the wagon and getting a patent for my heroin addiction preventing robot. It’s just your average coffee can/paper towel tube/tin foil machine, but I made the eyes out of the stuff they use in glow sticks, so it looks really scary and evil. So there’s that, plus I cut out a hole where the person inside the robot can stick out a fist and punch the person on the verge of injecting. Or, I don’t know, hold his hand or change the channel or sign the words “USE YOU LOSE.” I haven’t really figured that part out yet. I’m banking on a delusional addict’s healthy fear of robot overlords to be the main selling point.

Amy looking less cracked out en route to the embassy: