It starts as a small freckle. Hmm, you say as you gaze into the mirror. Then you notice another and another! And then one more! And they keep getting bigger! Suddenly you feel as though you are looking at an Appaloosa! (Side Note: Nothing, not Clinique, L’Oreal, Avon, Oil of Olay, Revlon or even Mary Kay will help. Not unless you can purchase these items in a 55 gallon drum in which to soak your entire body.)
Again, it does not stop here. We go forth from sun-kissed beauties and morph into something with skin resembling fine Corinthian Leather. Ahh! To have such coverage of the upholstery in my car would look amazing and last forever!
We now slip down to the neck. Seriously?! This just keeps getting better and better. Your once swanlike neck has been replaced by a wattle. Better known as turkey neck!
And why in the hell is my chin now connected to my collarbones? Where there once was a defined jawline, is now jowls that melt into my collarbones making me appear to be somehow related to Jabba the Hut!
If by now you have not committed suicide, I shall continue.
You’re still reading this, aren’t you? O.K., O.K., moving along.
Ah! We have come to the junction of the chest and arms. Which to cover first? Hmmm.
Let’s go with the arms! Those once, proudly displayed, finely muscled appendages that we loved to show off wearing sleeveless blouses, tank tops and little strapless dresses, have morphed into flabby, sagging, pendulous underarm “kite-like” wings, making us look, for all intent purposes, like flying squirrels!
Not a pretty sight when waving goodbye, and sadly, they keep moving long after you’ve stopped waving!
O.K., so now we switch to long-sleeved blouses in an effort to cover these monstrosities from public view.
Traveling further down the arm we pass by the abysmal crags called elbows. There is not enough lotion in the world to soften them, so we’ll just move along.
Ah! The Hands! Those once-so-diminutive hands. Jeezus! More age spots!
And why in the hell are all of those veins sticking out of the backs of my hands? Looks like a bad map of some small, underdeveloped country! And why are all of my fingers starting to turn and bend into positions once thought impossible to achieve??
(Kind of reminds me of those coin operated machines just inside almost every store in America, “The Claw!”)
And, just try putting nail polish on those babies! Not an easy task when they’re all pointing in different directions! We’ve spent enough time here, so let’s move back up the arms, across the bat wings and over to the chest.
Frack! What in the heck happened to my boobs? Those once proud and perky orbs are now drooping and pendulous. They look like two cantaloupes dropped into a pair of pantyhose! (Note: Substitute any other fruit to conform to your particular size.)
Gravity is not your friend, my ladies!
Remember when you could go braless? Well, not anymore! Now we have been blessed with another attribute — sock boobs.
Yep! Ya just roll ‘em up like a pair of socks and stuff um in your bra. And, please! For the love of God! Get a bra that fits! Nobody wants to see 12 inches of cleavage!
Oh! And there is another new development. Your boobs, which now appear to look like two-day-old water balloons, no longer point toward the ceiling when you lay down. They slip quickly to your underarms resembling water wings.
One minute you have soft firm skin, and the next, crepe! Oh, come on! You know what I’m talking about. You wake up and look at yourself, and it looks as though you’re entire body is wrapped in crepe paper! Wet crepe paper!
Is there no relief to this torture? Well, kinda. Your now pendulous boobs are not all that bad! When you take your bra off at night, you can dust off the tops of your shoes without bending over!
Cold? Throw them over your shoulders and wrap them around your neck. Tah-dah! Instant scarf!
Wanna take a bath? Use one to plug the drain and soap up the other to scrub your back!
May as well have fun with ‘em cause they ain’t goin’ away. My God! My waist has gotten huge!
Oh, wait. My boobs blended into my waist. Here, let me get them out of the way.
Oh! There’s my waist or what’s left of it.