MotherFUCKER. I spend good fucking money on lipstick, and in fact all my makeup. But lipstick, I’m constantly looking for something: near, far, cheap, expensive, glossy, matte, red, pink, coral, brown, clear:
THAT WILL STAY ON MY MOTHERFUCKING, COCKSUCKING LIPS FOR MORE THAN FIFTEEN CRAPTACULAR ASSREAMING MINUTES
Here’s my god damn, timeraping process of applying lipstick as illustrated by my transvestite cocksucking M.A.C. associate who obviously just wants to toy with my fragile fucking emotions:
- exfoliate lips with toothbrush and warm water.
- apply foundation to lips
- apply powder over foundation
- apply lip liner, fill in
- powder over lipliner
- apply lipstick
- blot
- apply lipstick again
- blot again.
10.apply gloss
That’s ten motherfucking steps motherfucker. And by the end I’m exhausted, dehydrated, late for work and ready to kill. I’d gladly go through these steps if they worked EVEN A FUCKING TINY FUCKING BIT. But after following one through ten this morning, I mistakenly assumed I could, you know, drink god damn coffee from a cup and eat some motherfucking cottage cheese.
Oh NOOOOOOOO. by 9:30 (two hours later), totally gone. TOTALLY GONE, doesn’t even look like I have clear gloss on, cock. (and the lipstick is the cock, not you Scylla)
So tonight I shall spit all of my lipsticks on pikes, set them alight in my yard, dance around them mightily, and leave their charred, pigsucking corpses for the vultures, their gruesome deaths a warning to all other lipsticks that dare to venture into my home.
I’ve loved you for years, lipstick. I think I look good in you. But our relationship is nearing Simpson/Brown proportions.
And if I let you get the best of me…then the terrorists have truly won.
In conclusion, I quote t.v. favorite Robert Blake:
“I will eat your face one eye at a time. Your grandmother will come out of her grave screaming”
Know that, Eden’s Rocks Lipstick from M.A.C. Know that.
jarbaby