Here to fulfill all your Nonny needs!

Happy Birthday, Willy Wonka!

Instructions for Commenting

YOU CAN COMMENT EVEN WITHOUT REGISTERING!

1) Make up a name--don't use your real name.
2) Click the "Post a Comment" link at the bottom of the blog post and then type your comment in the "Leave your comment" textbox.
3) If you have a Google or Blogger account, then click the "Google/Blogger" button in the "Choose and identity" section.
4) Otherwise, click the "Name/URL" button, and then put in your fake name in the "Name" textbox. You can leave the URL blank.
5) Or, you can chose Anonymous. In that case, put your fake name in your comment.
3) Make sure to put your fake name in your comment somewhere. Repeat commentors will be entered on Nonny's Hall of Fame!
4) Use the same fake name each time so we all know who's saying what.

Tuesday, June 5, 2007

What A Steal!
by Freelance Midget (guest blogger)

I joined a new gym a few months ago, and it's great (that's me on the left). Private. Clean. Never crowded. Ok, I'm kidding. I would never wear ankle socks, or Adidas shoes.

But I digress. As great as my gym is however, it is completely dominated by Palo Alto housewives with nothing to do besides go to Yogilates and Cardio Sculpt at 10 am on a Tuesday, and a smattering of private equity/VC dudes who flex in the mirrors (yes, I can see you, AC Slater). Although this means I only get to choose from a menu of 3 classes that begin after 6 pm, it has a few perks like free bottled water, machine-wiping minions, in-house masseuses, and free muffins and fruit. Last week, I noticed they had a little stack of flyers advertising free goodie bags at the spa next door, so given my background, and my just-out-of-college status, how could I resist?

I had no idea what was in store for me. This wasn't just any spa, it was a "spaaaaah." I actually have no clue what that means, but it was fun to say in my head. Really though, this place isn't your Spa at the Ritz. It is a full on post-op, derma peel, teeth whitening, wrinkle-injecting (restylane? perlane? derma-lene? your choice.) chop shop. I should have realized this - it's next door to a plastic surgeon's office and post-op recovery cottage. Heaven forbid anyone realize that your once-wrinkly face didn't naturally metamorphose into this.

I walk in, and I'm the only person in there under 25 who isn't working the desk. And I'm definitely the only person in there with a boob-size that isn't the letter E in the alphabet. But who cares, I want my goodie bag. So swag in hand, I skipped home. I tell ya, I was excited.

However, as I pulled item after item from the bag. My face went from this, to this. W.T.F.

Not that I wasn't grateful for my TNS Eye Brightening Cream, Rejeuve Rejuvenating Toner and Lotion + Ceramide Treatment, and Apple-Pear-Mango-Rhino-Horn Mask...but lo and behold, what do I find at the bottom of the bag?

A baby-tee with "BOTOX" emblazoned across the chest in Swarovski crystals. Yes, you read that right. Swarovski crystal. Baby tee. B-O-T-O-X.

Ok, the magenta makeup bag that said "Botox (R) Cosmetic - Botulinum Toxin Type A" was a somewhat predictable marketing move, but this, this one: my god, the genius.

Seriously, what fantastic brain at Ogilvie & Ogilvie decided, that in a world where post-face, neck, boob, lip, thigh, butt, and tummy nip patients are trucked off in armored BRINKS trucks to secret recovery communes, a pink t-shirt proclaiming "I got a face full of Botulism" would be a marketing gold mine? As if the constantly scared/surprised eyebrows weren't indicator enough, let's put 'em in tees! That say BOTOX! I can see the back-slapping and high fives now.

I thought about that for the past week, and I was pretty set on my conclusion about the viability of the absurd pink t-shirt, until I saw this: <<http://www.bestweekever.tv/2007/05/30/unemployment-check-this-video-contains-all-the-reasons-why-our-society-is-doomed/>>


Alright, for those of you lucky enough to have the right plug-ins, and a Comcastic internet connection:

I would have paid serious money to have been that tanning salon clerk that day. Fatty commission, plus priceless internal commentary. Ionesco heaven. I saw the actual TV airing of this indecent incident, but the ridiculousness didn't quite sink in until I saw this web remake because I missed the $1300 cocktail price tag. If this guy can sell a $1300 tanning session to an 8-year old girl, this man can sell a pink BOTOX tee to Ashlee Simpson.

On first pass, I thought to myself: the little girl probably saw Herbie Fully Loaded and The Parent Trap and wanted to be a pretty race car driver/twin who had mischievious adventures. Legit. But then I realized, this LA mom-bot has to have a Sky Spa gym membership, and a Lambertson Truex bag full of US Weekly's and People magazines. So although her not-so-bright daughter has an excuse for asking "to be like Lindsay Lohan" - mom-bot, what's your excuse for wanting your daughter to aspire to be an illiterate coke fiend? Well, let's be fair. Maybe she can't read either and just flips through the magazines for all the pretty pictures. Yaaaay. Yaaaay. I can bring two of my friends!*

I bet if I show these screen shots of the little girl getting air-brushed to random persons on the street, their first impression would be "Children of Chernobyl - The Aftermath." As sad as the scene is, it's pretty amusing to see the fear of mom-bot in the eyes of a dumb kid brought on by a woman with a spray hose and latex gloves - all while mom-bot stands outside directing. "Get her cheekbones. Ger her cheekbones! She has to look JUST like Lindsay Lohan."

If you look really carefully at this next picture (bottom), this just seals the deal:

If you can't fill in the partially obscured words: it says DRIVING UNDER THE INFLUENCE. Magic. Utter movie magic. Voila! Mom-bot, you've got yourself a perfect 10:

I might be color-insensitive, but I know for a fact that this kid looks like an Oompa Loompa made out with her face. A+, mom-bot, A+. Man, and at $1300? What a steal.

*Note: 11 street cred points for getting that reference.

9 comments:

Anonymous said...

dig the asian rockettes (kick higher!).

now, tell me something, miss thang, why are you patronizing a type of gym that encourages the lohan-momma-monsters that you seemingly abhor? are you the type who, while hurriedly slipping into brazil's latest version of hot summer wear, complains the whole time that it's wrong for women to demean themselves in such a way?

Nonny Nu said...

Freelance Midget,

What are you doing at the gym?? There's not enough time in the day to go to the gym and harrass your roomie. Now, to where and when are you moving? I would like some answers.

Your editor,
Nonny Nu

Man from U.N.C.L.E. said...

I was watching a repeat of The Colbert Report, and his guest was Jessica Valenti, the author of "Full Frontal Feminism". It discusses that women can be feminists and hot babes all rolled into one. A woman celebrating her femininity and enjoying her own femaleness for its femaleness is not demeaning, but empowering! That's not to say that pre-adolescents like Oompa-Loompa Girl need to celebrate their ninth birthday with anthing but Scooby Doo Cake and ice cream rather than a Wonder Bra and and a Rodeo Drive shopping spree.

Anonymous said...

"That's not to say that pre-adolescents like Oompa-Loompa Girl need to celebrate their ninth birthday with anthing but Scooby Doo Cake and ice cream rather than a Wonder Bra and and a Rodeo Drive shopping spree."

yeah, no shit.

Man from U.N.C.L.E. said...

"'That's not to say that pre-adolescents like Oompa-Loompa Girl need to celebrate their ninth birthday with anthing but Scooby Doo Cake and ice cream rather than a Wonder Bra and and a Rodeo Drive shopping spree.'

yeah, no shit."

Hey, it's feminism for the 21st century, and I didn't write the book I merely provided a summary of its contents.

Freelance Midget said...

oh man, i love me some hot brazilian swimsuits. i love my gym bc it's empty :) and bc it makes me look oh so good in my leotard, biker shorts, and adidas work out shoes.

i actually have no problems with plastic surgery (i think it would be fun to be one actually). i just found the spaaaaah experience amusing bc as much as those women paid to look good - well, they didn't look better than me. but i guess we'll see what kind of tune i'm singing in a couple decades, eh? plus, the botox shirt was too good not to write about.

Anonymous said...

mfu: seriously, i'm straight up with ya on that.

midge: sorry. i was giving you crap before i knew you had crap to deal with. :-(

[note: self-flagellation promptly at elven 'o clock--wine to follow.]

Nonny Nu said...

OMG, I just now saw the video. I don't know what to say. The kid actually says that she didn't want to do it, but Mother said she had to? I tried to spray tan Sushi once and she wouldn't have it. I didn't have the "you have to do it for your school picture" option.

Anonymous said...

A person or legal entity, such as a company or trust fund, that meets certain net worth and income qualifications and is considered to be sufficiently sophisticated to make Orange County equity investment decisions in complex situations. Regulation D of the Securities Act of 1933 exempts accredited investors from protection under the Securities Act.