http://news.blogs.cnn.com/2011/01/13/no-your-zodiac-sign-hasnt-changed/

 

Paris Hilton is devastated

By Meg Hofer, independent reporter

(Chicago, Ill.) In related news, uproar and panic have ensued following the realization that birthstones are no longer valid in the wake of the Zodiac catastrophe. Hysterical trust-fund recipients are reportedly already returning in droves to their cosmetic surgeons to have their former birthstone gems unembedded from their buttocks and lower abdomens—a reportedly painful procedure, and unnerved sorority sisters have been flocking by the thousands to have their vajazzling corrected.

Heidi Waverly of River North tearfully explains amidst the packed waiting room of her cosmetic physician, Dr. Heister, “I just don’t understand how this can happen to me—to us, as a community or a country. I might sue. I mean, how can they not research these things before I get 14 opals embedded in my [buttocks]?”

Adds close friend Dana Samson, “Turquoise? I have always been topaz. I’m confused about…who to be. How do I interact? How do I interact with my husband? We’re no longer compatible. I haven’t even processed how to deal with that.”

Compounding the turmoil, since the news broke yesterday, scores of aggrieved socialites are reported to having been tossing their now virtually worthless lavalieres, earrings, bracelets, and broaches out into the streets, begging the question—how will our country’s Streets and Sanitation Departments keep up with all the trash?

“Please people,” states Chicago City Official Doug White, “do not throw any more jewelry out of your condo windows, into the streets or alleys. They are creating a driving hazard, a walking hazard, and those caught littering gems will be issued stern looks to the full extent of the law. We are currently in the process of organizing an emergency trash jewelry receptacle system that will be distributed door-to-door absolutely as soon as possible. Questions and concerns can be directed to my office.”

The only business seemingly not threatened by the melee is the jewelry industry, though they are expected with little doubt to be exonerated of any blame in the matter.

The grieving jewel industry

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You Had Me at Rhinoplasty

February 10, 2010

Well, it’s the beginning of February, and that means that holiday of Hallmark holidays is coming up this weekend. And in honor of that magical day of romance and tenderness, most newspaper, Internet, and magazine ads are telling you all the ways you can alter your appearance, act especially out of character, or spend exorbitant amounts of money in the hopes of finally satisfying that special someone in your life who—assuredly—has just been putting up with you out of sympathy and ignoring crippling disappointment until now.  And isn’t that nice of them?

Who can ignore the nigh-pornographic images on a current gym advertisement of a half-naked couple—so tightly toned, you could bounce a quarter off the newspaper ad—on the verge of bumping pretties. And that thought bubble floating up from the Ken doll-looking gentleman pondering how grateful he is that Barbie’s abstained from a normal healthy caloric intake and subjected herself to grueling daily hours at the gym instead of that pesky bookworm habit. And all for this perfect Valentine’s Day moment of passion.

And thanks to all the dental offices out there whose February advertisements remind you that tooth-colored teeth will never, never do when attempting to knock the socks off your significant other with your winning smile on this very special night. You need a blinding grin, ladies, as you indulge in sweet conversation over a rich bottle of Merlot… which will end up temporarily darkening your teeth anyway, but really it’s the thought that counts.

I think possibly the most helpful are the Valentine’s Day ads for cosmetic surgery clinics, like this one from Nu U Medspa that accommodatingly informs you it’s not too late to surprise your Valentine’s date with a new you.  *Pause to hear the majestic singing* Presumably your date asked out the old you with the intent of trading up for a better model. Nu U is here to grant you relief by letting you know that you can still have that little procedure before your big V-day date this year! You know… apparently it’s still early enough that the pussing sores from your permanent body alteration will probably have healed in time for you to limp along on your evening of unbridled romance at the steak house and subsequent Jennifer Garner feature film. Why—if you grab a week’s package with Nu U, you could be smoothed out, hairless, with the fat siphoned out of your hips and ass and joyfully pumped back into your lips and laugh lines for a truly reasonable introductory payment plan!

I especially appreciate that I can re-contour my face and plump my lips by buying one syringe and getting the second syringe half-off. God, that’s a generous offer. It actually borders on philanthropy, and I’ve been meaning to write the city to ask for a day commemorating Nu U’s altruism. Happy Valentine’s Day—here’s your (half-free) second ass-fat needle; you’ll be looking like a Real Girl in positively no time, darling! And won’t he be a lucky guy. Additionally—since any date of yours who prefers you stiff-faced and full of tiny seepage holes is such a tremendous catch to begin with, won’t you be a lucky lady? Love is in the air…hmm-mm-mmm-mmm…

This all hearkens back to a fascinating and funny (in a laughing-so-you-don’t-cry kind of way) article I read at the end of January: The 6 Weirdest Things Women Do to Their Vaginas. Somewhere along the way, some brilliant person realized that we women are completely overlooking yet another way to feel adequate and satisfied—modifying our ugly, grotesquely horrible vaginas into pink, little fluffy pelvic clouds. Because lord knows, our dates have always spent all evening thinking up ways to avoid them. In fact, I can’t tell you how often I’d hear the resounding cry of the typical male—not to mention lesbian—lamenting that dreadful moment at the end of the date when they have to try and come in contact with these awful orifices. Thankfully, women are given expensive ways to make our vaginas minty, pale, bald, and less “floppy,” “irregular,” or “unfeminine.” You know, less like freaks of nature; more like god intended when he created microdermabrasion and chemical peels.

In short, thank you to all the companies out there who have reached out to us who read your advertisements during this fine, frosty February. Your encouragement toward creating the perfect evening does not go unnoticed.

This year, however, I do believe I’m going to give a Valentine’s Day gift to myself. Selfish, I know, but whaddayagonna do?

I am going to dress the way I want. No, no, seriously. I’m going to dress the way I want. I’m going to keep company for the evening who not only thinks this is a good idea, but who is also dressed the way they want. I’m going to eat a normal-sized meal and behave in a way that’s comfortable. I’m not going to attempt to impress anyone by looking or acting in a way I normally wouldn’t. And I damn sure expect the same in return. I’m going to spend a very reasonable amount of money, and I’m going to use all the money I’m not spending trying to impress on actually worthwhile things. And to top it all off, I’m going to have the audacity to think this is the perfect way to spend an evening, and also completely memorable (or, failing that, I’m going to realize that this is just another day and go about my business like someone who hasn’t lost their goddamn mind).

And I wish the same for all those I love. This means you.

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