As my next (forget it!) birthday is almost in the corner, panic attack is always been a factor in my stress barometer….hiding all the mirrors..trying to get an amnesia test…but why? YOU KNOW WHY!
I have a friend..you know..a friend,..who yearns to look 35 years old again and would willingly sell his soul to Ba’al Zebub to rid himself of wrinkles, sagging skin, enormous belly and witchy look….Then, admitting that he is a coward who cannot deal with the pain and the repercussions of age-defying treatments and surgery…blah,blah,blah…the sight of the knife,the after effect of anaesthesia…the scars etc..etc…drove to wonderland of Alice… and boringly settled down to a life filled with laugh lines!!!!(har! har! har!)
After hitting the 40s, (helllooooooooo!!!!)I’ve discovered to my horror that crows’ feet look way better on crows. They just don’t suit me one bit. What makes me even more dyspeptic is that, despite my failing eyesight, I’ve noticed that a lot of people 20 years older than me look about 30 years younger….waahhhh!!!!!
Hey, I’ve seen them throwing kisses on the RED CARPET on television… and Page 3! (hellleeeer!) Okay, so the rest of their bodies don’t quite match their youthful faces but SO WHAT!…. – they still look more presentable than I do….much ado about vanities hmph!!!!.
Then I have this other friend of mine..you know..friend..hehehe…that I swore to my Prada vintage shoes never to squeak come hell and high waters…..plezzzz..hush..hush.. anyway he was boasting that he led thy clean ..very clean…immaculately clean..ultra fabulously clean..did I mention the commercial ad on TV about this Tide ultra..twas very funny!!!..but let’s talk about it next note!..anyway, where were we Mimosa????….ah okey as what I was telling you about him flaunting his super clean lifestyles in his not so younger days…, loading up on colourful organic salads (an euphemism for insect-infected, puke-inducing, ridiculously expensive raw vegetables sold at soaring prices!!!yuck!), spending quality time with their personal hormone filled,six abs packed trainers(beefcake moron!)… using sun block religiously,hey YAYAH….where’s my PHYTO-BLANC white with sunblock chuvanez?…
Shunning nicotine(OHHH) alcohol and French fries and other ‘HEY DUDE I’M ON LOW CARB,NON MEAT BODEE LOVING KIND OF GUY..YO!!!. Unlike poor old self-indulgent. myopic me…..HUHUHU…
But no….my savvy HEALTHY world of my friendliness say, it’s because those not so old creatures have pawned the family silver and bone china to pay for cosmetic surgery!!! and Botox jobs, among other things.
The real tragedy is, I cannot – absolutely cannot – bring myself to do what they’re doing. Not because I’m an annoying and so secured about my looks….aha! , ‘You shallow person, ageing is a natural process, enjoy!’
Not at all. The truth is, I yearn to look at least 18 again……waahhhhhh I would willingly sell my soul to a handsome hunk and cute devil for it if needed; but I cannot deal the pain. So, I’m a wimp, big deal.
Miss Nora Aunor has made me realise that going under the knife to look hot just ain’t worth it. Why should I suffer acute pain to look like an extra from Planet of the Apes? That’s not my role model….so I stick out…..and go chicken….
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME……………….!