Or something like that. Remember? That infamous Joyce Jimenez line?
Anyway. Finally, I have something to discuss with you about. I'm sorry, my mind has been wandering some place for quite a while there, but I'm back on. As you all know, I'm leading a pretty boring life nowadays, but thankfully, interesting stuff keep hovering my thinkbox even on listless days. So let me lay one out right now...
I was watching The View yesterday, and the women were talking about how Botox, and plastic surgery as a whole, have become an epidemic addiction to most of aging America. Joy and Barbara admittedly shared their Botox tales and how it positively affected their personal lifestyles, self confidence and how it made them look younger (which isn't that visible, anyway). I was just like, well, that's ok. I guess. They've got the money, so why not spare it on something that they wish would make them look anymore attractive. And like I care about these stupid celebrities. But the bigger picture here is what I'm dwelling on.
My mother would constantly talk about her officemates who are all so eager to get boobjobs. As the soon-to-be-49 that she is, and with a rather deflated rack, she'd jokingly ask me over and over again if she could ride the bandwagon. Well, if she was 29, maybe I'd allow her, but at her age now, the risk just wouldn't make sense. Plus, having a small package didn't seem to have affected my dad for the past soon-to-be-25 years of their marriage, so I'm completely sure, he could bare with it for 25 more, you know what I mean. But I know that she's only joking, or at least half the time she is. Back to topic. I seriously don't get the obsessive vanity these people are drowing themselves into, that they'd suffer a mere couple of hours having some random guy, with a convincing surgical gear, vigorously insert monstrous plastic balloons into their chests, just to turn heads (pun may be intended). Moreso, did I hear that there's already stuffing for butts too? Jesus Christ, what in the world! I was told that John Estrada had his bottom done, which made a guy friend of ours invest interest into having his done too. I can't believe even men are now drawn into this insanity. What, do they think that having an upholstered butt would get them laid more? I don't think so.
And as for those who've made plastic surgery a weekly trip to the spa. I've seen some faces, and honestly, they don't look any good to me. Like this woman who appeared on Oprah last season. She looks like a gordy barbiedoll with an almost erupting upper lip. She talks very nasally, and couldn't even express herself very well due to her robotic facial muscles, let alone those tattoed eyebrows. Ouch! Guess how young the lady is. She's only 28! But look, she's like 12 years her senior with manly features. Seriously, what do these people get from this? Don't they see that they look, oh forgive me lord, fugly?? I mean, really ugly. As Noah perfectly said in The Notebook, "Science can only go so far, then comes God". See? That's what you get for completely ruining what God gave you to start with.
In case you'd ask... if I were given a chance to go under the knife, would I go for a lipo? No, 'cuz I don't like the idea of metal sticks getting into my fats just like what they do to pigs. If anything, I'll subtract, contrary to the trend. Perhaps, breast reduction. Trust me, having quite a gifted rack has been one of the most difficult things I have to deal with everyday, hence my bewilderment over those skinny girls who are painstakingly getting theirs done, with 4-pounder plastic jellos no less. That oughtta be heavier. Passive suicide just to look enticing? Genius!
From the collageneous attempts of having Jolie-ish lips, to the potentially painful injections extracting fat from the sacks below your eyes, and to the fake hair for those who didn't survive the battle of splitends. Seems like every beauty deficiency now has its corresponding scientific resolution. And it can only get worse.