Sunday, May 29, 2005
I am J-Lo at 49
This essay was written in 2004.
I think I need a new plastic surgeon. I don't need much work, after all, I've kept myself up well over the years and don't think I look a day less than thirty, but I could use a couple little tiny touch-ups and no matter which doctor I go to the result is less than what I deserve.
Tomorrow I'm calling up that nice young man that does Brittney Spears' work to see if he can fit me in sometime in the next few weeks. That asshole who just about butchered my chin last month is lucky I haven't sued him into submission.
Speaking of incompetent people who are dependant on me, what the hell is wrong with my agent, Bernie? He hasn't called me in three months and I'm starting to get a feeling that he might not be trying hard enough to find me the right part. I mean, its all well and good to be the new spokesperson for Stay-Free Hit-Or-Miss Menopause pads (for those months when you just aren't sure you still need one) and I really think that a classy job like durashears infomercial co-hostess is a nice thing for me to do in my spare time, but come on! I still haven't gotten the academy award they fucked me out of all those long years ago, and I'm getting tired of waiting.
I think I'll go cut another album. There's a whole generation of young people that need to hear my timeless message of cheap sex, self centered materializm and public drunkenness that only I can bring to the table. So, Bernie, wherever your jewish ass is, hop to it!
Not that I need any work, after all, my past accomplishments are indeed timeless.
Who could ever forget “The Cell”, or “Gigli”, or my ground-breaking come-back movie, “She Still's Got Booty” (my 2011 return to the direct-to-DVD silver screen).
And my accompanying album, “Vaguely Ethnic, Sexy, and Drunk”, which was poorly understood by the general public and undervalued by the critical establishment, is such a magnum opus that should I never sing again I would still go down in history.
Ah, well. My personal trainer, Chuck, should be over soon. I really need a deep tissue massage, and he's pretty good at it. At first I thought he was straight, but since he doesn't want to have sex with me he must be a flaming gay-wad. Didn't think I would use the word “Gay-wad”? Well I just did, honey.
I'm just THAT amazing.
Anyway, off to the tanning salon after that. This skin doesn't look like leather for nothing, you know.
Thats about all I have to say on this subject, except for botox, female condoms and mercury poisoning are causes I think I can turn to my benefit in a charitable manner. ¶ 11:54 PM
I think I need a new plastic surgeon. I don't need much work, after all, I've kept myself up well over the years and don't think I look a day less than thirty, but I could use a couple little tiny touch-ups and no matter which doctor I go to the result is less than what I deserve.
Tomorrow I'm calling up that nice young man that does Brittney Spears' work to see if he can fit me in sometime in the next few weeks. That asshole who just about butchered my chin last month is lucky I haven't sued him into submission.
Speaking of incompetent people who are dependant on me, what the hell is wrong with my agent, Bernie? He hasn't called me in three months and I'm starting to get a feeling that he might not be trying hard enough to find me the right part. I mean, its all well and good to be the new spokesperson for Stay-Free Hit-Or-Miss Menopause pads (for those months when you just aren't sure you still need one) and I really think that a classy job like durashears infomercial co-hostess is a nice thing for me to do in my spare time, but come on! I still haven't gotten the academy award they fucked me out of all those long years ago, and I'm getting tired of waiting.
I think I'll go cut another album. There's a whole generation of young people that need to hear my timeless message of cheap sex, self centered materializm and public drunkenness that only I can bring to the table. So, Bernie, wherever your jewish ass is, hop to it!
Not that I need any work, after all, my past accomplishments are indeed timeless.
Who could ever forget “The Cell”, or “Gigli”, or my ground-breaking come-back movie, “She Still's Got Booty” (my 2011 return to the direct-to-DVD silver screen).
And my accompanying album, “Vaguely Ethnic, Sexy, and Drunk”, which was poorly understood by the general public and undervalued by the critical establishment, is such a magnum opus that should I never sing again I would still go down in history.
Ah, well. My personal trainer, Chuck, should be over soon. I really need a deep tissue massage, and he's pretty good at it. At first I thought he was straight, but since he doesn't want to have sex with me he must be a flaming gay-wad. Didn't think I would use the word “Gay-wad”? Well I just did, honey.
I'm just THAT amazing.
Anyway, off to the tanning salon after that. This skin doesn't look like leather for nothing, you know.
Thats about all I have to say on this subject, except for botox, female condoms and mercury poisoning are causes I think I can turn to my benefit in a charitable manner. ¶ 11:54 PM
