Yes, I'm only 27 so I know I don't "need" Botox, Susan.
Does anyone NEED Botox, though? Do we really NEED anything, aside from air and food and water? No, not really – so shush.
Truth be told, I always thought the idea of preventative Botox was an absolute scam – but here's the chilling truth, hons.
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I'm only a year away from being the same age as Cameron Diaz in the film The Sweetest Thing. There's a scene where she raises her arms above her head to show how much her breasts have sagged like bags of Pitango soup.
That's where I'm at, guys. Ship me off to the colonies, cause my tits and face have seen their best days and it's a sharp decline from here on out.
So Susan, I recently got some Botox at Prescription Skincare in Ponsonby - and I'm sorry to tell you this but I've truly never looked better.
I literally cannot frown anymore. Even if I strain so hard it feels like I'm about to have an aneurism – and I love it.
Just like this study I read that found smiling really can make people feel happier – I reckon the opposite is maybe true, too - because now that I can't frown, I inadvertently don't ever really feel p**sed off or stressed anymore.
Case in point: When I recently lost my passport in Los Angeles, everyone was very perplexed as to how I was so serene and nonchalant about the whole thing. I assured them it was because I now have the emotional range of a literal Sim.
And in case you hadn't already guessed, I'm not the kind of chic woman who sneaks off to the Botox shop under a cloak of darkness, and then if anyone happens to ask why she all of a sudden looks 12 instead of 32, lies and says she's just been drinking lots of water and having early nights.
Instead, I am the kind of brazen huss who, if you happen to tell me I look quite nice today - will unabashedly scream "OH MY GOD THANK YOU SO MUCH IT'S BECAUSE I JUST GOT BOTOX"..
And I do look nice, sorry not sorry. I look bomb. I am the flame emoji. My forehead is so smooth I almost look like a Madame Tussaud version of myself.
However, fan feedback has been mixed.
Is my forehead so tight that when I raise my eyebrows it feels like I'm wearing a swimming cap and goggles? Yes.
But do I also look like I get at least eight hours of sleep, don't drink at least a box of cask wine every week, or ever have a quarter-life, existential crisis' every night at 10:36pm about the fact I'll never own a home and I'll probably die alone eating sad, My Food Bag's for one? Yes.
So, by no means am I recommending you get Botox, except I kind of actually am. If you want to, that is. Live ya feminist truth.
But also, excuse me, just look at my perfect forehead.