Without surgery. Without botox. And, yes, without a Time Machine (and don’t we all wish such a thing existed outside of science fiction movies?).
Surprisingly enough, it was so easy to look years younger, I went the full monty and erased decades. I’m not exaggerating, decades of tired, careworn skin vanished over the course of a single weekend. Just look at me now — I have the dewy freshness of an eight year-old girl. Worry and disappointment, poof, gone. Dark circles, wrinkles, baggy eyes — adios. My face is now a perfect reflection of my childish, irresponsible behavior.
You look skeptical. Well, fair enough. I invite you to clap eyes on the header at the top of this page. See that? Conclusive, irrefutable evidence a remarkable rejuvenation has, indeed, occurred and youthfulness is fully restored. I’m a third grader once again. All because of a brand spanking new header, featuring new imagery and fonts and a zippy new attitude.
In the interest of full disclosure, however, this astounding change is limited to my header. In real life, I’m still a geezer with the face of a drawstring bag. Dammit all, anyway!
copyright © 2019 the whirly girl