Here’s a little insight into my life.
I refuse to grow old. Why should I have to endure frown lines, jowls, grey hair, and all the rest that it brings? No, I say. No. I beat all that gravitational sagging, bone hollowing and fat loss day in and day out with my inventive techniques to stay young.
Edmundo,
my surgeon (I call him Doctor Facelift), just got done administering my botox.
I’ve had hundreds of shots and other anti-aging treatments and they sure ain’t
cheap. It costs money to look as pretty as I do. Don’t be shy with the fillers,
which redefine facial contours but last little longer than a year. Keep them lasers
and skin peels coming as well, I tell him. I love a bit of skin-tightening with
my ultrasound and radiofrequency. To compliment the microneedling, of course. We’re
talking improved skin texture and a collagen boost.
I’ve
just had plasma taken from my own blood, blended with a syringe of hydrating
acid, stuck in the fridge overnight, and back into me in the morning. I’ve had
fat extracted from my thighs, mixed up with stem cell extracts, and bunged into
my hollow cheeks. Absolutely nothing scares, fears or stops me from looking
Tony the Tiger Grrreat!
Yeah, a few syringes of toxin here and
there, not a problem. What are we talking, all in all, maybe £35,000? Worth
every penny. Skincare in a pot for a few measly quid.
Apart
from Edmundo (he’s my favourite), I’ve got more dentists, doctors, nurses and dermatologists
than you can shake a wet fish at. And, speaking of fish; that ‘trout pout’ is
what I’m after. I want to look like a caricature of myself.
The
good thing about botox is that it relaxes muscles and softens frown lines. I’m
so bouncy and alert I need some relaxation in my life. I got a shock when I saw
a MRI scan of my face after I didn’t have a treatment for a while. I looked
like a waxy Madame Tussauds model in front of a chocolate fireguard.
The
actual shape of the skull changes as we age.
Some
people complain that they can’t see their genitals because their belly is in
the way: I can’t see my belly because my lips are in the way.
My
injection-filler boobs have become rocky lumps. They drive my fella crazy. And what
about the nerve-freezer that paralysed half of my forehead for months? A laser
procedure ripped the insides of my eyelids off last November. I couldn’t open
my eyes without anaesthetic drops. Random bad luck, Edmundo said. You get a lot
of things going wrong in this game.
Thank God for yoga to
help me feel better.
There’s nothing more
aging than wheezing whenever you fall back into a chair.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m
not averse to a big box of Malteasers, or a Pornstar Martini – but only after
my white roots are taken care of. I’ll practise clenching my jaw on the treadmill
later, so my jawline doesn’t vanish into my neck. The neck is naturally taken
care of with diluted collagen-stimulating filler.
That’s it from me. Hope
you’re inspired!
© The Anonymous
Journalist 2023
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