A 29-year-old woman in England with an inoperable brain tumor plans to spend $55,000 on plastic surgery to look like Demi Moore. This comes shortly after the parents who granted their terminally ill 9-year-old daughter’s wish to get married before she dies.
Is this what it’s come down to for women? Dying pretty and not being an old maid at 9? Whatever happened to going to Disney World and meeting sports stars? Or, for the 29-year-old, spending it all on drugs and ending things at one big party. Or, what I would do, buy George Clooney for one long night or an hour or even ten minutes of phone sex.
And who really wants to go to all that much pain to look like Demi Moore? That’s like going to college so you can be as smart as a contestant on Celebrity Jeopardy. If you’re going to all the trouble, shoot for looking like one of those teenagers Hef claims to be banging. Or have surgery where they give you a third arm, so at least you have something interesting to talk about at parties.
Besides, of course, that tumor growing in your head, which I imagine is pretty interesting, but probably brings the room down when you bring it up.
Obviously, nothing’s more tragic than a dying child and I can’t imagine not living to see my ’30s, although, to be honest, it was a rather mediocre decade. But dying doesn’t mean you’re crazy, terminally ill women and children of the world. Don’t make me make fun of you.
