My plastics; My business

I have quite obviously been in a coma for the past few years as I don’t understand how else I could have missed the fact that two of my friends have trained and qualified as plastic surgeons capable of diagnosing a treatment course solely using their special x-ray, see in to the future goggles!

It has felt a little bit like some people feel they own a part of me since I was sliced and diced, they’re quite happy to dish out advise and criticisms when actually (I’m not being snarky saying this) they know bollocks all about what I need to be doing. However because they’re my friends it’s really difficult to tell them to back off because I know that it is all done out of love. One friend in particular put me in a triumphantly bad mood talking about how she knows I won’t need any cosmetic surgery that I really wanted to shout obscenities and slam the phone down! How can anyone say I won’t need to go under the knife again when they haven’t seen what I look like without any clothes on now? I’m probably overreacting but it’s nobody’s fucking business!

I researched the surgery and all the possible outcomes and it is my body so I and only I get to decide what I do with it in future. If I want a surgeon to pump my chest full of silicone and my lips full of fat from my arse (let’s face it, I have enough to spare!) then I’ll bloody well do it. So ya boo sucks to you!


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