Do: Get Your Baby Plastic Surgery

Oh darlings, I have the most smashing news. Gwyneth’s side project/charity case/best friend Benedryl has allegedly finally taken some initiative as a mother and fixed that ridiculous schnozzle of her little tyke Blue Balls. I have oft wondered why someone of Gwyneth’s caliber and breeding would acquaint herself with a spokesperson for at-home hair dye and “urban” jeans but perhaps I underestimated this Beyawndra girl and she is truly learning from goop’s teachings after all. I just hope her husband Cray-Z can learn a thing or two about music from Gwynnie’s husband, Chris Coldplay. Who knows, maybe Coldplay can help get his fledgling hippity hoppity career off the ground! Wouldn't that be a hoot?

Now, back to the topic at hand, as I am sure you are well aware, Hollywood is so tough for the infant set but luckily baby plastic surgery is all the rage right now.  Any baby who’s any baby is getting a little nip and tuck before their christening or their US Weekly cover or their Illuminati initiation. After all, you can't just show up to these things looking like you just got picked up out of the crib! This is Hollywood baby, you have to have that fresh, just came out of your secret surrogate’s vagina look or you are done in this town before you have even learned to flip over on you own.

While I am never one to brag, my darling 6 year old son Barnaby is an absolute plastics pro. Not only does he drive mommy to and from Botox appointments when she is too drunk and her driver has quit due to pending sexual harassment litigation but he knows just when it’s time to freshen up his own face without me even needing to tell him anymore (only non-invasive procedures of course, wink, wink). He even once selflessly tried to bring my older daughter Hortensia with us to see if we couldn’t do something about her hunchback, extra row of teeth and that third bum leg she’s started growing out of her back but in her typical fashion she just growled and bit him. So, obviously, we had to put her down. Unfortunately, the pentobarbital didn’t take and she’s still mouth-breathing in the closet where we keep her. But not all was lost, the incident led to my being named Worst Mother of the Year by Rich Bitch Magazine, finally dethroning that obese slag Nicole Kidman and garnering me a deal for a “leaked” self-pleasure video which was conveniently “stolen from my laptop!”

Moral of the story, no publicity is bad publicity but a bad nose is a death sentence for a baby’s career.

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