This all day. I come from preppy horse country LP wearing hell country* and the old guard (the scary old family money ladies) are cheap as fuck. Blue light specials are their jam and if you're clothes look too new (outside of a formal occasion) you're considered gauche. Yes, sorority girls, they will call all y'all's…

Mr. Cosby forgives you? HE forgives HER?! He should die in a ditch and all these ladies should then be permitted to line up and tap dance on his coffin. Jesus wept! Excuse me while I go have a rage stroke.

Nope. Nope. All the nope that ever noped. In conclusion, fuck that noise.

The saddest part of any kind of plastic surgery/Botox/fillers, to me, is that all these women start to look alike. Same nose. Same chin. Same (limited) facial expressions. I'll be the big four oh in a couple of months and fuck if I plan to become another piece on the build-a-broad merry go round. If that's your…