After a lengthy discussion with myself I’ve decided that it’s going to take too long before I can rely on my son to treat my aging problem. Not that I don’t have confidence in him, I mean this kid is bringing home distinctions and all– but it’s going to be a number of years before he could potentially answer my prayers. So I have been seeking an ‘In the meantime quick fix!’ Something to get me through the next decade or so!
Fillers – Apparently this is the most popular non surgical route at the moment. So I booked my visit to the aesthetician. She had a real good look at my face! And even took some hideous photos – I swear that evil woman has an “ugly app” on her phone because she made me look worse than I have ever seen myself. She pointed out every flaw – most of which I had never even noticed. I mean, all I really didn’t like was the crow’s feet and the saggy jowls, but she made me see so much more…. And it was ugly – real ugly! Good marketing strategy there, Dr Evil! Well played!
Feeling more desperate than ever I said “Right – how much filler will I need to fix my face?” After some calculating she gave me what she referred to as a figure she had worked out on conservative amounts of filler that would be just enough to make me feel better, but not enough to make me wrinkle free! She proudly showed me her calculated total – TEN GRAND!
So fillers are not an option for me! I went home feeling glummer than Gilbert Grape. I ran a bath in the hope that I could soak away the nightmare images I had seen on Dr Evil’s phone hours earlier. As I took off my jersey I caught sight of my ‘muffin top’. Ordinarily I would have burst in to tears, but I was struck by the most ingenious idea I have ever had. THERE’S MY FILLER! I was going to use my muffin top to plump up my face! How you ask? Well, muffin tops are caused by tight pants on a chubby tummy so if I could wear some sort of body suit that pushed my muffin top up to my face then my problem would be solved!
I put on my tight jeans – My muffin top now ready for manipulating, I hauled out "the belly belt." I had been prescribed this belt – very kidney belt looking only much broader, after my hysterectomy – I put it on the tightest it could go and gawked at myself in the mirror. My muffin top had definitely moved – The belt was acting like a corset. It gave my lungs a new look! I quite liked the look! I knew Greg would to but quickly I reminded myself that my lungs were not my problem. I pulled the belt up over my lungs manipulating flesh and blubber but it just wouldn’t go in the direction I wanted it to and it ended up in my armpits. Now that was a sight. Fat armpits! Just beautiful! I kept manipulating my soft jelly bits, squeezing and wheezing along. While taking a break to give my arm muscles a little rest I happened to turn slightly and caught sight of my back in the mirror. Good heavens – I had given myself a hunch back. This was a disaster!
But I will not be defeated! So I ripped the belt off and headed to the medicine cabinet. I needed a bandage. If I tied the bandage around my neck tightly enough I could get the result I was looking for. And so I began the winding process. The bandage was pretty tight! I was taking short shallow breaths. I wasn’t concerned at first because I can hold my breath for about four minutes! I married an Olympic Flatulator – (Yes I know theres no such word but just shoosh, this is my story!) Anyhoo – the point is I’m used to holding my breath! The bandage was certainly creating some facial plumpness. I noticed I was looking redder than usual and my vision started to blur. I suddenly realised I was actually unintentionally committing suicide. The bandage was too tight, but any looser and there would be no effect! Just before passing out I managed to unwind the bandage! I am currently gulping air, but I am back at the drawing board! I WILL NOT BE DEFEATED!
Toodles x
No comments:
Post a Comment