My pores, however, were drawn like a moth to a flame. They loved the bright lights and big city, seeking the spotlight shamelessly. Unfortunately, they met up with cheap and seedy product lines, filling up with muck and debris and becoming attention prostitutes in the process. They're hardened...and soulless.
So I had no choice. I staged an intervention. Just like all addicts, they didn't think they had a problem. Their black hole appearance felt natural to them. But I consulted a specialist and after careful inspection and MIND-NUMBING EXPENSE, we came up with a plan. It's called, "aesthetician with excessively priced product line" repentance. I expect to spend the dirty harlots into submission.
There were SIX~count them~SIX IMPERATIVE PRODUCTS that should have been part of my daily regimen all along. Apparently the cotton ball toner I was using was like a band-aid to a severed arm when it comes to maintaining a weathered face like mine. Who knew?
Anyway, we're on the path to full atonement now. And it feels good, people. Supple baby rump good. And I hardly even NOTICE the lack of girth in my wallet. I guess if you want your PORES to diminish, you must be prepared to set the example with your FATTY CREDIT CARDS. All part of the intervention process.
Takin' one for the team.
Kind of like Team Edward or Team Jacob...but it's Team Supple Baby Rump Face.
(I'm having T-shirts made up. You can order them online soon. See? I'll be famous yet!)