Okay, here’s a newsflash for you. A new study just came out that says when Botox is injected into your face, the poison has been found to ENTER THE BRAIN. Really? I am astounded! You mean, when you stick a needle into someone’s face, less than a half an inch away from the brain, and inject POISON, some actually travels there??? Wow! Stop the presses! How could this possibly happen?

Obviously, very few people took science in school. Including me, but even I figured out that if you stick a needle in someone’s body and inject poison, the stuff doesn’t magically contain itself to the injection site. There are these things called veins and capillaries and neurons that ACTUALLY CONNECT to other parts of the human body. Ever heard of the circulation system, people? Freakin’ kindergarteners seem to have a better grasp on the human body than most adults, especially the ones who think they’ll look younger with their faces frozen like mannequins.

I just can’t believe that anyone believed the manufacturer when the Purveyors of Poison told them that “studies had shown” that the neurotoxin completely broke down at the injection site into innocuous compounds and didn’t go beyond it. Wait. Let me get this straight. Poison—a compound used as a bioterrorism weapon—is injected into the muscle, kills some nerve endings and then somehow magically transforms into pixie dust or something? After destroying tissue, poison turns into rainbows and unicorns and pretty pink clouds? How the hell could anyone buy this BS? Even doctors believed it. Probably because their golf trip to Scotland was funded by the drug companies. And where did they do the testing on Botox originally? Greed Labs?

Doesn’t anyone realize that these corporate bastards don’t care if their product kills us? The Botox guys are the same kind of corporate creeps who told us Vioxx was safe. All they want is MONEY. And people are so gullible, they watch an ad on TV that says sticking poison in your face is completely safe and will make society like you more, so they grab their credit cards and rush to their nearest plastic surgeon.

The underlying message from these corporate jerks is that aging is a character flaw. If you don’t poison yourself, you might actually commit the horrible sin of LOOKING YOUR AGE and you will end up friendless and alone. Yeah, every time I see my grandmother, I think, wow, what a hideous troll, she should hide herself away. I mean, what is wrong with people? When did aging become something to be ashamed of? And just whom are we trying to please with all our Botoxed looks?

Which brings up the entire reason people get cosmetic procedures and inject their faces with poison: to make some stupid superficial people like them more. I mean, how dumb is that? No friendship is worth shoving a bunch of poison into your system. Women are spending money poisoning themselves so some fat middle-aged idiot won’t divorce them for a trophy wife. Why would anyone risk life and limb to stay in a relationship for the rest of your life with some creep who wanted you to look like a freakin’ twenty-year-old at forty? Why would you risk brain damage or death for some narcissistic freak? How could you be this desperate to stay with an idiot like that? For God’s sake, spare the injections and buy yourself a vibrator.

I realize some women are forced into cosmetic procedures to protect their jobs. If I were in that position, I’d tell my corporate masters to take a hike. What? Poison myself so I can keep my bloody job? Screw you, I’ll start my own freakin’ business. I mean, if you put Barbara Walters next to her wax figure at Madame Tussaud’s, there is no way you could tell the difference. Her face is a mask of surgical Botox wonder. And let’s not even go into Joan Rivers, she doesn’t even look human any more. Do these people look better than they would if they’d left their faces alone? No. They look like circus freaks.

Which brings us to the other problem with Botox: it doesn’t work. You don’t look younger after you get injected. You look like a stroke victim. Part of your face reacts to my jokes, part of it remains frozen. You can’t even raise your freakin’ eyebrows. And when you smile, your face goes all lopsided. You look freakin’ weird. Like some character out of a horror movie. I mean, whenever you run into anyone who’s had a bunch of plastic surgery and Botox injections, you don’t think, hey, they look good. You think, wow, they had a lot of work done. I think, jeez, there’s someone without any self-esteem. And lack of self-esteem can only be cured with therapy not surgery or poison.

And yes, I’ve heard the “pro” arguments for Botox. Medical uses like with cerebral palsy and stuff like that. Okay, so that makes sense. But other than for a disease, I don’t get it. Some shrink friend of a friend had some bad stuff happen to her earlier in her life so her neutral expression made her look mean. It was off-putting to her clients, so she got Botox. How dumb is that? Yet another example of someone poisoning themselves so crazy people will like them better. I mean, this is the reason everyone gets injected with Botox, so crazy people will like them better. What solid reasoning!

Of course, I’m sure the new warnings won’t scare off the die-hard plastic surgery junkies. In fact, I’m so sure of it, I’ve started a new company. Forever Beautiful: Embalming For The Living. I’m gonna make billions.

©2008, Janet Periat

I buy stupidly expensive potato chips. We all have our vices. However, I just discovered that, for some reason, I have been buying the hype about my premium potato chips. Before today, I believed that somehow my chips were not only tastier and better made than average potato chips but classier. I believed that the sophisticated manufacturer of my chips didn’t waste bag space on useless advertising slogans—their sales techniques were understated and refined. Just like their customers.

Which, I have just realized, makes me an idiot not only because I’ve wasted good money on one of the cheapest vegetables on the market but because I have succumbed to the pretentious chip manufacturer’s stupid marketing pap. Just now, as I was stuffing my face with their chips, I actually read the bag. The last time I was this disappointed was when I was seven and found out that Captain Kangaroo was neither a real Captain nor a real person but some actor named Bob (I’d already figured out he wasn’t a real kangaroo—I was quite an astute child).

On the front of the bag of my expensive chips, under the title and the sumptuous picture of tantalizing chips, is a box with this proud proclamation stated in large letters: 25% MORE CHIPS. On closer inspection, below this wonderful news that I’m getting a bunch more chips, is this statement written in very small letters. “Than Our 6 OZ Chips.” Uh. Wait. It doesn’t say 25% more for the same price. It just says 25% more than 6 OZ Chips. Which means I didn’t get a bargain at all, I just paid more for a bigger bag of chips. This is the manufacturer’s big sales pitch. It’s a bigger bag. Priced higher. This is their huge news flash.

I feel so let down. I expected more out of these people. I expect Nabisco to be lying to me and making ridiculous claims about their products. “Now! Cheesier!’ I expect Frito-Lay to be splashing their bags with ludicrous marketing nonsense. “New! Different Packaging!” But I expected more out of my high class snack purveyors. I eat their fancy schmancy chips and pay their fancy schmancy price with the idea that they are selling me a better product. They don’t need to resort to using inane sales techniques on me, their target customer, because I am refined, sophisticated and classy. I buy their pretentious potato chips because I am a gourmet snack connoisseur. In more common terms, I am a snack snob. Basically, I buy expensive beer and expensive chips because I can’t afford an expensive house and an expensive car. Buying gourmet chips is the way I get my self esteem. And now the manufacturer has failed me. They’ve crossed a boundary. They have now fallen in my eyes, I might as well be eating Doritos. (Which I eat on occasion when I feel like slumming. Also because Doritos are so frickin’ tasty even though they contain more chemicals than a hair treatment.)

On second glance at this bag, I am now feeling humiliated. These chips aren’t understated and classy, they are showy and dishonest. “Exotic Vegetable Chips” they proclaim. Exotic? Potatoes? This is like saying Velveeta is a “Rare Imported French Cheese.” The use of the word “exotic” is an outright lie. Parsnips (also in the bag) are not exotic, they are commonplace and cheap. Tawdry, even.

Now, after closely studying the copy on the bag, I am past humiliated, I’m on a downward spiral. I think I might need a snack chip intervention. Here’s my new favorite part of the sales pitch on the bag:

“Our chips combine the beautiful colors and delicious flavors of the earth’s own vegetables into the perfect accompaniment for most cuisines.”

Escargot and potato chips, anyone? I’d love my satay and curry with a side of potato chips. Sushi and potato chips, always a great combo. Filet Mignon with Béarnaise sauce, asparagus tips… and potato chips. I’m sure everyone who is shelling out a couple hundred for dinner at a fancy restaurant would be thrilled to see their entree coming out with a big pile of potato chips next to it. Not only are these chip charlatans liars, they are DELUSIONAL. Svengali bastards who hypnotized me into believing I was a better person because I bought their stupid chips. I hate them.

Even the ingredient list is pretentious. “Ingredients: A seasonal mix of root vegetables…” What? What season are they talking about? These chips are available all year round. Liars! Wasting perfectly good words hyping the stupid ingredient list! Am I supposed to feel better now for paying four bucks for a bag of chips instead of two? Because they’re using high falutin language fit only for a five star chi-chi restaurant? These are chips, people! Just potato chips! Chips that used to boost my self esteem, but now, after actually reading the bag, have made me feel like a fool. I am now in a self esteem deficit, just from buying a bag of chips. I think I’m going to get myself a lawyer. These people must pay. If some moron sued McDonald’s for serving hot coffee that was actually hot, I can certainly get some money for emotional suffering from buying hoity-toity potato chips in packaging riddled with lies.

I have decided to write my own copy for this particular bag of chips. Ripoff Chips—Overpriced Pretentious Potato Chips In Fancy Schmancy Packaging. 25% More Hype Than Other Brands! Ingredients: Plain ol’ potatoes, parsnips and some other common root vegetables that are cheap to buy and cheap to process but because we have hyped them so well we have convinced a bunch of deluded people who get their self esteem from buying overpriced snack foods to pay up the butt for stupid potato chips enabling us to retire to our own private South Seas Islands. Stay tuned for our next product: Florida Swamp Condos or Water-Based Luxury Dwellings For The Sophisticated Buyer. Free waders included in every sale!

Damn… I finished the bag. I’ll be right back. I have to go to the store for chips and beer. Uh… you got a fifty on you?