Ah, boobs. The earrings of the rib cage.
They’re glorious to behold and to hold and that’s why everyone wants them.
Even when they’re not real, they spectacular.
This, I suppose, is why the still-new test drive boobies beta version is already being researched and improved upon by other medical professionals. Within the next two years, they’ll be able to sell temp titties to chicks who “just wanna see how it feels” for three to four times what the current surgery’s offering with zero recovery time. And when I see the types of repeat customers purchasing the current service (the shorter lasting one), it leads me to wonder: how much of it is about lower cost or being fickle? If they keep coming back, they obviously don’t hate the extra weight. And they clearly can afford it (probably spending more by than the real deal by coming back).
But convex chestedness won’t be the only thing coming outta this.
It’s said that this same technique can be applied for dudes who want bigger looking…pecs.
And calves. Despite the phallic facts that have us all saying “yeah, right; we know what they’re gonna use it for”, I also don’t get how these would work for any of that anyway. Because boobs aren’t muscle – so I’m imagining Popeye coming down off his spinach binge, with fleshy adipose batwings where his bulging biceps were moments before. Or, after this week’s spectacle, I can imagine some other popular requests (in a couple years when this is finally ready) that may alter surgical priorities in general:
“I should have gotten the Kardassian butt cutlets instead of wasting money on Lasik”
“Well, like they say, hind sight is 20/20”
And why’s it gonna take two years? Because it’s still in its pioneer stages and thus still carries the risk for things like hematomas and getting dead of blood clots and the like (although I feel like that wouldn’t stop a good portion of the population any more than a 13 year old girl getting tatted by a 20 year old who used Jack Daniels as a cleaning agent). So they hafta perfect it yet.
Still, I dunno about these vacation augmentations – be they boobs, butts, or whatev.
’cause something about it just feels too “henna tattoo” to me. The first thing I dislike about it (on a personal level) is that I never do well with vacations because the nature of them is to eventually end. I don’t even like taking a weekend off from work because going back to non-laziness feels like such a punishment that I take it personally and take half a day to get back into work mode. So with almost-but-not-quite body mods, it’s the same deal. And what will I do when I meet Prince Charming? And he falls in love with my new butt-face-nose-boobs? And then in a month we’re just pillow talking when suddenly my whole body liquefies, combusts, and then fountains from the sheets like Cinderella at midnight-mare on Elm Street?
On the judgmental front, I guess I’m also throwing a bit of shade because I feel like people are just into the intermediate tweaks because they don’t wanna do all the prep work and difficult recovery of actual surgery. I can understand that fickle feeling leading to the test-drive three or four day version. That’s some Spock ass logic (if you’ve got the means to do both the week-lease and the permanent tweaks later). But if I really feel like I got cosmically cosmetically slighted, and I’m feeling that every day I wake up and look in the mirror, then I’m either gonna go for the real thing or a cheaper sticker-version of the beauty illusions. Like contoured makeup.
(Why are these even legal?
Never. Not even once.
In fact, that’s the rule now:
Like crack, never put your butt crack in this.)
As awful as some of the ghetto purty versions are, most of them are better than this upcoming thing you’d have to do a monthly tune up at some medical saline pump to maintain. Which I’d only do if I was too much of a pussy to rip my body apart and endure the suffering that every disgusting caterpillar has to do to morph into a beautiful butterfly. Nay, sir. I dunnit once. I’ll do it again. Like an internally bleeding boss. But these bishes are no better than those kids who wanted to be in our gang in middle school and skip over the “initiation”. Psshha. Keep moving.
So today’s shade throwing is dedicated to the up and coming generation of vacation
You ain’t bout dat life.
Call me when you’ve taken a knife.
Then you can be in our gang.