plastic surgery and generation "fucked"

Am I the only one to notice the ample women of today? And I mean the ones with ample asses, lips and breasts that have their very own built-in floating device if their plane were to nosedive into the pacific. I'm going to be honest, I've entertained the idea of cosmetic surgery and still occasionally look at my chesticles with pity. But, I've come to the conclusion (actually, my beau sort of led me to this conclusion. If I took full credit I'd face like copyright infringement or some shit) that I'm not gonna join this expanding group of......costly expansion. I still can't help but consider what this is doing to our present and future. This idea of beauty can now only be obtained with surgical scissors, a steady hand and the relocation of fat or long ass needles appropriate for horse insemination. These razor noses, intertube lips and alien-like hourglass figures that are emerging from surgery rooms every day, bring a out with them unobtainable perceptions of beauty. And the very unobtainable "perfect" is now being vehemently challenged.  I read the fear of humans being overran by robots is becoming more real each time the technological world conceives something more profound.  It seems, however, we are the ones straying from our human selves and disregarding the affects this will have on the coming generations of not just girls, but boys, as well.

bleep blorp introduction

Hi,
Since this is the very first post birthed from the loins of my fingers (I know fingers don't actually have loins, but hypothetically speaking), I thought it fair to introduce myself. Firstly, I'm aimless. What I'm doing with my life I can't be sure of from one day to the next. I don't mean I'm one of those cute 21 year Olds that are adorable in their carelessness, yet magically have an apartment that could have jumped right the fuck out of a magazine with that tantalizing rustic bare brick on show; the sort that are on the pill to be safe regardless of if they're dating someone because occasionally they like to go out and show their cervix with their girlfriends at the club, and God knows you can't be too careful. I'm the type of aimless 21 year old where I go days without brushing my hair and I sort of work at a temp service and a full-time job, but also I'm living at home mooching with piles of laundry in my room that are crying for a wash. It's not adorable. Secondly, I'm with a guy that fully and utterly has his shit together, all wrapped up tight with a bow on it, in a quaint two story house. He actually pays bills versus peeking through the plastic window of the envelope before throwing it away, like me, his female counterpart. He's also about 5,000 miles away in Devon, England. So you can imagine the struggle is very alive and fucking real. Thirdly, I'm a rant and rave type, that when you put me on a track about a topic this train is not going to stop until faced with derailment. Lastly, I'm a health nut but not the kind you want to beat in the ground because they will not shut up, while you're going to town on your Twix, about saturated fats.  Howdy, stranger.