Then after the priest hears my whining I say the Act of Contrition: O my God, I am sorry for my surgeries because they fucking HURT and I have offended my bank account by draining it. I know I should love Chanel above all things. Help me to find a rich doctor, one I can marry so he can do all this for free and please help me avoid anything that might lead me to more surgery. Amen.
p.s. I'll even take a dentist since he might be friends with some doctors.
I finally took a shower yesterday. No more baby wipes and washcloths. I have a shower that you have to step over a tub to get into so it was tricky. And because I blasted my body with hot water for as long as I could stand upright, it loosened all the dead stuff so now I have a skin carpet over here. When I got out of bed yesterday my purple satin sheet was white. They say the dust in our homes is really just dead skin. Triple that to infinity chez moi.
I could have used this mirror after my shower yesterday. It's from the website Suck UK. God I love the Brits. Go check out their Smoking Mittens. I wish I had had those when I lived in New York and was a smoker waiting 45 hours for the Second Avenue bus.
Anyone have the map to Shinatown? How about all those shine products they sell now? Do those work or are they as bogus as all the other crap the beauty industry f(o)ists on us with absolutely no proof required? Like all that volumnizing mascara. Then they do a closeup and Drew Barrymore is wearing FAKE EYELASHES. No one is responsible for those lies but they took tryptophan off the market back in the 80's because someone died. IN CHINA. So if Drew Barrymore dies from mascara usage while in China, maybe they'll stop selling us this crap. "Ooooooh, it has a BIGGER brush!" Are you shitting me? Women are so gullible.
End of chat.