Laugh all you want, but I've just gotten up and this is NOT the face I went to bed with.
The face I went to bed with was ... not bad, really ... blond, blue eyed, lightly freckled fair skin, a few fine lines around the eyes, showing my age (just this side of death) a wee bit but not anything too hideous. Semi-pretty if you're drunk/and or blind.
THIS MORNING, however... my God. I look like Bela Lugosi post-mortem.
Seriously.
(note to self: apply moisturizer with a putty nice. paint all mirrors black. wear hoodies backward) (tell people I've just gotten out of surgery)
And, you gals know what I mean here. You spend about seventeen hours tweezing your eyebrows, chin, nose, forehead, throat, ear lobes, etc ... only to wake up the next day, all innocent and hopeful. ONLY to discover you have some weird, wiry industrial-strength 3-inch long hair sprouting from your eyebrow like a bungee cord for the forehead! WTH?!
It's bad enough you have to shave BOTH legs, pits, God knows what else, exfoliate, pumice, pluck, and so forth so you don't look like the freaking ape you really are.
Bad enough when you get older (insert doom-like background music OR Barry Manilow - whichever) and discover that the Fairies of Youth & Beauty have stolen your face overnight and crapped all over your pillow instead.
This is why many women find the idea of vampires so romantically fascinating. Immortality is our only hope to remain 'youthful' (can we say TWILIGHT, anyone?). When is the last time you've seen a female vampire looking like menopause just ran her over like estrogen roadkill?
P.S. if anyone under 45 is reading this, I hate you.
Just kidding. Maybe. mwha ha ha ha
Sigh.
Thank God I have freckles. For real. I figure if age spots consume my flesh like Kudzu on an Atlanta highway, I can always always just point to a spot and claim 'freckles'. I'm Irish. It might work.
Remember when you were all young and 'perky' and could just roll out of bed (your boobs rolled with you instead of dropping to the floor like a couple of dead cats), splash cold water in your face to give your skin that 'dewy' look, dash on a fingertip of lip gloss, shake your glossy thick head of hair once or twice, then bounce out the door like you had springs in your bikini briefs???? Me, neither.
God, I hate 'perky'.
Now that I am old and crabby, I've learned to be happy if I can actually PHYSICALLY get UP outta bed without the help of serious anti-inflammatories and a winch. I also learned that drooling while you sleep can be considered a natural moisturizer. And if I can find my bosom with the aid of a magnifying glass or divining rod, I am happy.
I don't much care if the stupid things bounce with me, I'm simply grateful one of them hasn't gravitated down to my knees and/or is sagging in the same direction as the other one. Hopefully, they will continue to hang there like two whipped puppies until the day I die.
Which brings us to death.
I really hope God loves me.
Or likes me some, maybe more than a garden slug.
I hope someday God will sit down and talk with me, and answer all the big questions dancing through my mind.
I have a lot of questions for Him/Her/It.
I want to know why I got hemorrhoids like cantaloupes when I gave birth ...
I want to know why He doesn't tell me the lottery numbers like I keep asking...
I want to know why He made me look more like Doris Day than Angelina Jolie ...
And I want to know WHY I am stuck here on this monkey planet with all these perky youngsters whose blatant goal in life is to cut me off in heavy traffic?
Now I gotta go DO something with this face. Like I've got time for that ;)
Showing posts with label satire. Show all posts
Showing posts with label satire. Show all posts
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Confessions of a Nefarious Chin Hair
Not really, I just wanted to use the word nefarious. NEFARIOUS - okay, now I feel better.
Today's post is actually a prequel written in anticipation of the upcoming holiday season (which retail merchants sprung upon us about 5 minutes after we got the kids back in school the end of August). So ...
For the soon-to-be-upon-us Christmas frenzy (I mean season), I'd like to present a post chock full of inspirational warmth. A few modest lines to light the candle of love in every human heart. To lift the spirit with joy, and lastly -but never least - to impart the true meaning of the holidays in each and every mind I may so humbly touch.
But that sounds like a whole lotta work...
Instead and quite frankly, since none of you cheapskates out there have showered me with presents and pumpkin pie and popcorn balls and fudge, and maybe a Plasma TV or two, you're lucky to get this much out of me.
'Cos God knows, here it is, not even daylight yet, and I'm already hard at work. Weird. All I ever do is work, work, work and write. And feed cats. I mean, it's not like I ask for much, just a pretty mum or something. Cookies would be nice (those peanut butter ones with the deformed chocolate thingy in the middle).
Bitterness aside, I've been thinking to myself, "Self, how about we offer up readers some thrifty tips for the holidays?" Like ... giving homemade coupons promising the recipient services you'll do for them at some future date, say - a back rub, free babysitting, car wash or anything else you can think they'd enjoy. People really like that kind of thing. Then MOVE out of town before you actually have to do any of that stuff.
And who wouldn't be thrilled to receive a real sack of shiny gold nuggets under the Christmas tree? Yep. For the modest cost of a can of gold spray paint and a few shovels of gravel *borrowed* from you neighbor's drive, you can save a bundle on Christmas gifts. Don't forget the real sacks, though. *[caution: there's a fine line between outright felony and free enterprise these days].
It's ideas such as these that guarantee a holiday season no one will ever forget, barring serious pharmaceuticals.
Speaking of fruitcake (whatever). Did you know that fruitcake originated in Egypt***? Yes, indeed. During a brief and somewhat embarrassing period of history when their surplus of stray crocodiles and dead people were at an all-time low, the Egyptians were forced to secretly resort to mummifying foodstuffs in order to keep up the appearance of productivity and thus avoid having to erect another fool pyramid. Because, as every Egyptian worth his camel knew, just about anything beat lugging those heavy blocks all over heck and back under the blistering sun [RayBan would've made a killing in those days!].
So, centuries later, when looters broke into the tombs of Amen-Ramen, Tsk-Tsk-Tut, and the like, the mummified cakes were discovered and naively assumed to be worth something on the antiquities market. Those same cakes, now aged to the flavor and consistency of spoiled cement, are still out there making the rounds to this very DAY!
See, what appears to be chunks of red and green fruit are really bits of crocodile, which is why 'fruitcake' in Latin means "Repulsive Reptile Cake".
*** According to those merry misfits at The International House of Pyramids, Papyrus & Pancakes, whenever Pharaoh Amen-Ramen Noodle III began to sulk and whine about how all the other pharaohs had a newer, nicer pyramid than he did, his priests would gather round and reassure him what a pretty Pharaoh he was, and how YES, he did deserve a nice, shiny new pyramid, and as soon as all the slaves finished up with all that embalming stuff, they would jump right on the new pyramid thing. While in reality, the priests weren't any keener than the slaves to run around in the hot sun and sand all day long getting heat boils. And having to bless each stupid block before it was set in place was just about the most mind-numbing job yet invented. [Everybody was a lot happier a few years later when a huge oasis full of plastic was discovered, and the pyramids could then be quickly fashioned out of colorful lightweight interlocking blocks, which - as every school child knows - is where LotsaLegos come from]
@I don't know why my mind works like this ...
Today's post is actually a prequel written in anticipation of the upcoming holiday season (which retail merchants sprung upon us about 5 minutes after we got the kids back in school the end of August). So ...
For the soon-to-be-upon-us Christmas frenzy (I mean season), I'd like to present a post chock full of inspirational warmth. A few modest lines to light the candle of love in every human heart. To lift the spirit with joy, and lastly -but never least - to impart the true meaning of the holidays in each and every mind I may so humbly touch.
But that sounds like a whole lotta work...
Instead and quite frankly, since none of you cheapskates out there have showered me with presents and pumpkin pie and popcorn balls and fudge, and maybe a Plasma TV or two, you're lucky to get this much out of me.
'Cos God knows, here it is, not even daylight yet, and I'm already hard at work. Weird. All I ever do is work, work, work and write. And feed cats. I mean, it's not like I ask for much, just a pretty mum or something. Cookies would be nice (those peanut butter ones with the deformed chocolate thingy in the middle).
Bitterness aside, I've been thinking to myself, "Self, how about we offer up readers some thrifty tips for the holidays?" Like ... giving homemade coupons promising the recipient services you'll do for them at some future date, say - a back rub, free babysitting, car wash or anything else you can think they'd enjoy. People really like that kind of thing. Then MOVE out of town before you actually have to do any of that stuff.
And who wouldn't be thrilled to receive a real sack of shiny gold nuggets under the Christmas tree? Yep. For the modest cost of a can of gold spray paint and a few shovels of gravel *borrowed* from you neighbor's drive, you can save a bundle on Christmas gifts. Don't forget the real sacks, though. *[caution: there's a fine line between outright felony and free enterprise these days].
It's ideas such as these that guarantee a holiday season no one will ever forget, barring serious pharmaceuticals.
Speaking of fruitcake (whatever). Did you know that fruitcake originated in Egypt***? Yes, indeed. During a brief and somewhat embarrassing period of history when their surplus of stray crocodiles and dead people were at an all-time low, the Egyptians were forced to secretly resort to mummifying foodstuffs in order to keep up the appearance of productivity and thus avoid having to erect another fool pyramid. Because, as every Egyptian worth his camel knew, just about anything beat lugging those heavy blocks all over heck and back under the blistering sun [RayBan would've made a killing in those days!].
So, centuries later, when looters broke into the tombs of Amen-Ramen, Tsk-Tsk-Tut, and the like, the mummified cakes were discovered and naively assumed to be worth something on the antiquities market. Those same cakes, now aged to the flavor and consistency of spoiled cement, are still out there making the rounds to this very DAY!
See, what appears to be chunks of red and green fruit are really bits of crocodile, which is why 'fruitcake' in Latin means "Repulsive Reptile Cake".
*** According to those merry misfits at The International House of Pyramids, Papyrus & Pancakes, whenever Pharaoh Amen-Ramen Noodle III began to sulk and whine about how all the other pharaohs had a newer, nicer pyramid than he did, his priests would gather round and reassure him what a pretty Pharaoh he was, and how YES, he did deserve a nice, shiny new pyramid, and as soon as all the slaves finished up with all that embalming stuff, they would jump right on the new pyramid thing. While in reality, the priests weren't any keener than the slaves to run around in the hot sun and sand all day long getting heat boils. And having to bless each stupid block before it was set in place was just about the most mind-numbing job yet invented. [Everybody was a lot happier a few years later when a huge oasis full of plastic was discovered, and the pyramids could then be quickly fashioned out of colorful lightweight interlocking blocks, which - as every school child knows - is where LotsaLegos come from]
@I don't know why my mind works like this ...
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