Cosmetic surgery, vaginas & Charlie the Tuna

It seems like there's been a lot of conversations lately about cosmetic surgery and other enhancements. One girlfriend has been gung-ho about trying Botox and/or Restylane. She often bitches about her lines and creases and has several friends who started down the needle highway already. She’s just too damn scared to turn herself loose on that road; but every time she hears another success story, she inches closer to the entrance ramp. I told her I’d probably consider something cosmetic at some point, but I think that once you jump on that runaway train, it’s hard to get off.

I’ve seen girlfriends get good boob jobs and bad boob jobs. Tummy tucks, lipo on the thighs and buttocks. Nose jobs, tattooed eyebrows, collagen injections, face and eyebrow lifts. Whatever floats your boat is cool with me. It’s your body and if it helps your self-esteem, I support you.

But there is a point of too much. If you don’t believe me, spend a day at the Boca Towne Center. Aside of great shopping, there’s an endless stream of overdone women to giggle at. You can see tons of too-tiny waists on lollypop heads with faces sewn back on on too tightly and lips that look like the Charlie the Tuna guy on a Starkist can.

Today, as I was sitting at my desk working on a mundane spreadsheet, I got a hilarious phone call from a girlfriend. She called to share that she just heard a radio commercial for the crowning glory of all cosmetic procedures. The king of the hill. Top of the heap. Hey, number one…

Vaginal rejuvenation.

Say it with me…vag-in-al re-juv-e-nation. Yes, ladies, for several thousand bucks, you can have the procedure that tightens your vagina and perineum to help increase your pleasure during sex and stay young in every way.

I’m laughing now and not sure how to make more fun of it than that. I’m partly laughing at the term, vaginal rejuvenation. It reminds me of another funny vagina word—vaginal dentata, or women with toothed vaginas. Various cultures have folk tales about women with toothed vaginas, frequently told as cautionary tales warning of the dangers of sex with strange women and to discourage the act of rape.

To further that thought, in the bizarre-but-true category, a real product was invented called Rapex. It looks like a female condom, but with one stunning difference: upon penetration, 25 hook-like barbs attach themselves to the skin of the penis, and the device is then transferred from female to male and can only be removed by a doctor. The idea is that the rapist’s pain would disarm him long enough for the victim to get away, and would require him to turn himself in–evidence unmistakable–in order to avoid permanent damage.

Not sure where I was going here, aside of the laughing I’m doing alone at my desk, but consider this lesson on vaginas over.