Unusual Appearance Quotes

On vacation in Indonesia, I ran out of skin-colored zinc, so I used green, and locals called me Hulk.

But you have to understand, my beard is so nasty. I mean, it's the only beard in the history of Western civilization that makes Bob Dylan's beard look good.

I think because of the eccentricity of my work and how I dress, people expect me to be bouncing off the walls. But that's just not how I am.

I grew up in the Bible Belt and I made my own clothes and dyed my hair purple. Nobody ever knew what to do with me.

You can't plan for the future, because some guy's going to land in a spaceship with three heads and a big beak and take over everything.

I don't really have any gimmicks. I don't actually do anything that's strange. I don't even wear weird things.

I really am not that hairy on my body. It's weird.

I know I'm an acquired taste - I'm anchovies. And not everybody wants those hairy little things.

In an interesting inversion of status, the reigning breed in the dog park these days is the really-oddball-unidentifiable-mixed-breed-mutt-found-wandering-the-street or its equivalent. The stranger the mutt the better; the more peculiar the circumstance of it coming into your life, the better.

Once upon a time there was a Queen who had a son so ugly and so misshapen that it was long disputed whether he had human form. A fairy who was at his birth said, however, that he would be very amiable for all that, since he would have uncommon good sense.

My head looks like an uncooked ham with glasses.

My father-in-law has ear hair like a wolverine. It fans out from the auricles, wafting from the ridge lines like cilia, like gray feathered plumage.

I love showing my scar on my tummy - it is shaped like a question mark.

I wasn't a pretty girl. I was six feet tall at 15, you know.

A full-grown manatee, which can weigh more than 1,000 pounds, looks like the result of a genetic experiment involving a walrus and the Goodyear Blimp.

So there are ups and downs, but the best is just the looks on people's faces when they meet me for the first time, because I am a real-life, walking, talking giant. It's not every day you see someone like me walking down the street.

The naked mole is, like, the ugliest freakin' creature in the world. It is so radically, unbelievably disgusting. And the star-nosed mole is also. It looks like it snorted a firecracker. They live way underground, and to get footage of them is basically impossible.

My eyes are at different levels, and my right ear's a bit bigger than my left - which showed up particularly in school photographs - so my mother used to call me her 'little Picasso.'

I guess the biggest thing I had to get used to was people staring. At first it was like, 'Am I wearing something odd? Is there something on my face?' It was kind of weird because when I go to the grocery store, people, they're not necessarily coming up to me asking for a photo, they just... look at me.

People would look at me weird. You know, like, 'Why is this guy's hands always in his pockets?' But I was embarrassed by the size of my hands.

I was the funny-looking one who wore a trench coat and played hacky sack with the other greasy kids.

I was not particularly bright, I wasn't very athletic, I was a little too tall, odd, funny looking, I was just really weird as a kid.

I had ordered long legs, but they never arrived. My eyes are weird too, one is gray and the other is green. I have a crooked smile and my nose looks like a ski slope. No, I would not win a Miss contest.

I have a face that is a cross between two pounds of halibut and an explosion in an old clothes closet.

I always liked the idea of shaving the back of my head and getting a tattoo of my own face there so that, whichever way I was looking, I could freak people out.