Faithful Reader Paula sent me some lipstick to play with, because she knows me too well even though in fact she does not know me at all.
There is no quicker way to my loins than to send me makeup. And we all know that was her goal: to get to my loins. I of course TORE the box open and realized some of these colors may not be working for me.
I'm brown, and I'm kind of sad. Won't you be sad, too? Won't you also be sad about my acne blemish? Brown. The lipstick of 47-year-olds with blemishes. Brown. The lipstick of despair.
WHY, HEY THERE! MY LIPS ARE BERSERK!
Orange you glad I switched to this shade?
Look, here, copper, you get off my lips or I'll MAKE you get off, see.
How do you do? I'm the mom from The Wonder Years. Do my frosty lips make you tingle? Do they? DO THEY?
...Oh! Okay, this one's good. Excellent. Will ignore desperate need for Botox.
And thanks, Paula!!
