I don’t understand the appeal of Collagen injected lips.
When a recent Dancing With The Stars contestant took to the floor, I was reminded of Batman’s great nemesis, The Joker. Then today I saw a recent photo of one of the Vegas Stars. Her lips were so engorged that her cupid bow flat lined and her smile was dead. As unnatural as a pregnant frog.
I am reminded of childhood games, when we stretched our eyes, cheeks, and lips through the most extreme contortions. I was quite often the winner of silly face competitions with my impression of the Hunchback of Notre Dame. (I can still do it.)
Some of today’s celebrated faces would put my creation to shame with the twisted looks they’ve fashioned with Botox, Collagen, and Lifts.
The female celebrities aren’t the only ones that give me pause to gasp.
Just the other day I leaned over in my usual head down manner to blow dry my hair. I made a turn just in time to observe my jowls, cheeks, eyelids, and eyebrows respond to the unfortunate call of Gravity. The skin around every feature in my upside down face extended upwards towards the floor.
“Oh My GOD,” I shrieked. “I’m Wayne Newton!”