Sunday, July 30, 2006

The doctor will see you now...

It seems that there is a growing trend in Hollywood to over indulge in plastic surgery, often with disastrous results. So as a public service to clueless celebrities everywhere, I’m here to tell you, that you know you’ve had too much plastic surgery when…

Your plastic surgeon names his yacht after you.

You find yourself peering out through your nostrils.

Just the sight of cutlery in a restaurant compels you to lie on the table and demand anesthesia.

You’ve had enough skin, fat and bones removed from you to create your own personal Mini-Me.

A three thousand-year-old mummy comes to life and asks you who your embalmer was.

People start to mistake your belly button for a tracheotomy hole.

A waiter enraged by your lousy tip throws the coins in your face and they ricochet off with enough force to kill three by-standers.

Your breasts are so large that they qualify for their own zip code.

You are the reason your plastic surgeon has carpal tunnel syndrome.

Frightened villagers armed with torches and pitchforks start chasing you around.

Madame Tussaud’s thinks creating a wax figure of you would be redundant.

Joan Rivers, Michael Jackson and Cher get together and have an intervention for you.


If this doesn’t win me some kind of humanitarian award I don’t know what will.

3 comments:

Jenna Howard said...

I'll nominate you TDB.

Where do I send the check...er, letter?

The Drive-by Blogger said...

Thanks jenna, I'm pretty sure it's one of those Scandinavian countries...but I can never remember which one.

Jenna Howard said...

Gasp! Linky love! *mmmmmwah!* Me loooove linky love.

Thank you sir.

Somewhere Scandinavian? Okay. I'll get right on writing that check...er letter. Just for you!!