Your face is just fine, but you'll have to put a bag over that personality.

Los Angeles is infamous for its not-yet-out-of high-school boob jobs and model/actress/waitress Barbie dolls.

New York is known for its fair share of Botox filled ladies-who-lunch-and-only-god-knows-what-else gold-diggers.

These godforsaken cities filled with man-made creations, gravity defying skyscrapers and the obsession with anti-aging, have such a draw to them that whatever goes on in the rest of the world, and however messed up their respective economies may be, they remain the capitals of the world. A weird love-hate relationship has always existed when it comes to New York and Los Angeles.

Either you love what they stand for or you absolutely hate it. There is no middle-ground. Everything is taken to extremes. That goes for the quest of ultimate bodily perfection as well.

So much time, money and energy is spent on perfecting what was perfect to start out with from the hands of our creator - quite frankly it is insulting. On so many levels.

Extreme measures, such as risking the dangers of liposuction with a body-fat% already below the thirties and Botox injected in girls in their twenties driven by vanity, insecurity and oftentimes a generous amount of self-hatred,  is not based on respecting your body; it is abusing your mind and soul and disconnecting from true meaning - losing yourself along the way.

And that always makes me want to say, “You know, your face is fine, but you’ll have to put a bag over that personality… because that is just one uglyass personality.”