Living in a cartoon world
Glenwood Springs, CO Colorado
Things are getting weird.
So I’m watching TV the other day – which may be to blame for the wackiness – and I came across a show on Hollywood’s best, and worst, plastic surgeries. This includes the ballooning trend of women desperately seeking big lips. And when I say big, I mean plumped. Or swollen.
Depending how you look at them.
Cosmetic commercials tell me that plump lips are signs of youth. For many women, lip plumper, collagen injections or rubbing strawberries on your mouth when you’re allergic is the way to magically transform thin lips. Keeping lips puckered 24-7 also works.
Very tiring though.
These days, collagen lip injections are as mainstream as skinny jeans. Both can look like a couple of overstuffed sausages. If done wrong.
It all depends on how much you stuff them.
The problem with these collagen injections is sometimes lips turn out distorted. Like cartoon-character distorted. That’s all fine and good if the man you’re trying to impress really likes Tweety Bird. And I guess oversized plumped are kissable. But there’s just something weird about the look. All it takes is Botox injections around the eyes and forehead and cheek implants, and you can magically go from Tweety Bird to Sylvester the Cat.
Trust me, it has been done.
It might be fun to turn myself into a cartoon character and live in a cartoon world. Anytime I’m really hungry and I look at a friend, she turns into a giant turkey leg or a big ham hock. If I’m tired, my eyeballs have anvils hanging from them. If I experience love at first sight, my heart jumps out of my chest and throbs repeatedly in the guy’s face. Funny, that’s happened to me in real life.
Actually, not funny at all.
Living in a cartoon world means I can fall off a cliff and survive. I can power a car with my feet. I can also be the only female in a colony of males and never have to commit to a one of them. I’d just be courted 24-7. There’s always a chance I’d open a gift from one of the blue dudes and it blows up in my face.
That’s OK, as long it doesn’t burn off my six eyelashes.
I could also cohabit with seven dwarfs. They could do some damage to my honey-do list. Except for Sleepy because, well, he’s just too damn tired all the time. Six out of seven hard-working men aren’t bad odds, though. Dopey is a little questionable on how much yard work he can do. Plus he’d always be eating my Cheetos. And getting Happy into trouble.
I knew there was a reason that guy is always smiling.
If I’m stuck in a cartoon world, I can live in a pineapple at the bottom of the sea. My best friend would be a pink starfish who likes to sleep and catch jellyfish. This could be a problem considering jellyfish freak me out.
I’d get over it, though, if I were beachside 24-7.
Considering I received two birthday cards in the mail this year – one had a puppy on the front, the other a kitten – I’d probably be more like Cathy. We do have a lot in common. Cathy’s dog, Electra, was rescued from a shelter. My dog, Elwood, was rescued from a ditch after being dumped. Cathy loves chocolate. I could take a bath in the stuff.
I won’t even touch the similarities in our love lives.
Maybe I’m more like Tweety. Technically, he’s a male. I’ll just invest in some collagen lip injections – or maybe go hardcore with silicon – and run from cats. Then things will really get weird.
April E. Clark would much rather be April O’Neil from the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. She can be reached at email@example.com.
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