The other day I was working in Santa Monica, otherwise known as the Land Of The Beautiful People Who All Look The Same, and I felt like I was in a Twilight Zone episode - no, not the one where the hot chick is being operated on by the mutant people so she’ll fit their standard of beauty. The one where everyone swallowed a magic pill causing them to morph into exact replicas of each other in size, shape, and facial features. What do you mean that wasn’t a real Twilight Zone episode? Well, okay. But it should have been, because it’s freaky enough to be fiction.
Sadly though, it is reality. The plastic surgery epidemic is a perfect example of a good idea gone horribly awry. Giving people the option to look younger and feel better about themselves is a good thing. But when that evolved into giving people the option to look like a younger version of their favorite celebrity, whom they never looked like to begin with, even on a good day, is when we gave up our seat on the sanity train for a ride on the cuckoo rollercoaster from hell at the county fair. The one with the rickety tracks operated by a carnie from Kentucky named Jeb who is in the throes of a bad acid trip while on his shift.
