I Heart My Plastic Surgeon

that he shoots.

I love his knife and scalpel from my thighs down to my boots.

A a great big Valentine shout out

to the man who keeps me young.

I'd let him pierce my eyebrow, my navel or my tongue.

He keeps my youth a glowing

Without anybody knowing.

He irons out the wrinkled skin.

He makes my thighs look thin, thin, thin.

My lips get big and pouty.

I'm Angelina there's no doubty.

The turkey wattle under my neck,

Well lookie here it's gone by heck.

Joan Rivers may be way ahead

But I'll catch up before I'm dead.

I'll have each hair on my legs snuffed out.

While I use my new big lips to pout.

My legs will not have a single blue vein.

I can achieve beauty and endure the pain.

No hair on my body , just on my head

I can have hair transplants, that's what he said.

An eyebrow lift, a chin implant

As long as I don't look like Cary Grant.

Some breast implants like Dolly Parton

I'll look good despite the smartin'.

A little pain is worth the look

And all the years off that it took.

If I die young and leave a good body

I can go knowing I was a hottie.