Meet Maddie!

Hello Beauties!

In response to your feedback about how challenging it is scheduling appointments with my full schedule, I have some exciting news to share with you! Beginning next week, my brilliant colleague and fellow esthetician, Maddie, will be joining me at Exclusively Skin.
Many of you have already met and have been seen by Maddie who trained and worked alongside me at Dr. Menachof’s office. So yes, obviously, she is amazing. Just to put this into perspective – Maddie takes care of my skin and it is no secret how much I love my face. While you will be seeing both of us at your appointments, Maddie will be able to offer you even more skincare services with her expertise. Additionally, she will also be able to treat you when I am not available or if you are just tired of me. (Our darling Erin has already graciously informed me that she will only be scheduling with Maddie for this particular reason.)

In an ongoing effort to provide you with the utmost care, exceptional skin and latest treatment options, I am super-excited to expand my offering in this way! As always, I appreciate your comments, and we look forward to seeing you soon!

Love, Lisa

 

Mrs. America

Lisa’s Version   

I was recently sitting down contemplating what I was going to do with my life (re: my most recent blog, “Just Kidding! I Am Actually Not Moving Because Sometimes I Make Poor Decisions) when a message popped up on my laptop from a woman by the name of Amber. Apparently, Amber is a pageant director and thought I should consider running for “Mrs.” Colorado division. Her message went on to say they were looking for women who are intelligent and about community service and that I would be amazing at this. Well, clearly Amber here had been doing her research because this was totally me.

 I stood up, slammed my laptop closed, flung all my paperwork off my desk and yelled, “CHA- CHING! LOTTERY BITCHES!” My dog didn’t even look up from licking his ass. Whatever. Haters gonna hate. I was a little perturbed that my psychic failed to mention that I was going to be Mrs. America. Kind of a biiiiiiiig deal. Her work has admittedly been spotty lately. I will probably have my agent fire her when I hire my entourage. 

My first call was to my medical director. Even though I had been dropping subtle clues about why he should just let me take over his office and run my business, this deal was now off the table. I was going to be Mrs. America. I didn’t have time for peasant work now. I had a strict regime of spray tanning, teeth whitening, sequin selection and starving myself to adhere to. I was feeling rather overwhelmed until I remembered I had already had my vagina tightened so that is one less thing I had to do.

 My next call was to Erin because she was the homecoming queen in high school. I know, I will give you all a minute to let this sink in…. BHAHAHAHAHAHA. Obviously, she had a winning strategy since she miraculously pulled that shit off with scoliosis, acne and an anxiety disorder. I was not stopping at “Mrs.” America, I was going to be “Mrs.” Universe and Erin was going to help me get there. 

I could tell by Erin’s hysterical laughter that she was totally jealous of my newfound success. She actually said, “HAHAHAHAHA! The next category up is Mrs. Senior Citizen. You are SO doing this! Except you need to call Amber and tell her you want to compete in the teen division!” I ignored her immature childish barb. I asked Erin what she thought my strongest talent was. Crickets. “Um….can you sing, dance or like hum?” 

Erin’s Version 

Yes, I did receive a phone call and a text and an email and a picture of the actual message and another text and a voicemail from Lisa. Clearly, this was an even bigger deal for her ego than when she was randomly seated by Matt Lauer on a plane and he totally tried to bone her. Of course I was going to help her. Not bone Matt Lauer, Gross. But like, win the pageant. (*I did wistfully say I had always wanted to go ice-skating at Rockefeller Center at Christmas time and stay at the Waldorf and brunch at The Ivy, but I did not outwardly say, “Sleep with that creep.” Like I am a good friend.) 

Truthfully, I have been looking for something to do with my life and alphabetizing Lisa’s nail polish and telling her she’s pretty isn’t terribly challenging. I do it anyway when she is in one of her “moods.” I was the homecoming queen, so I was admittedly a liiiiiittle surprised that Amber didn’t contact me since I have experience in being pretty. I honestly think the only “community service” Lisa has ever done was court ordered, but whatever. I deeply respect the organization and this little outreach thing they have going on.  

 I immediately climbed up in my closet and pulled down my red bottomed heels. I remembered that the one and only time I wore those things, I seriously wondered what kind of fresh hell I had just stepped into, but Lisa was going to have to learn to walk in them. I would just take her to a foot surgeon when this shit was over. I then grabbed three heavy books for her because I knew she didn’t own any and she needed to start balancing them on her head. I then made her an appointment for some blonde extensions, ordered her a slinky aqua blue evening gown off Amazon and sat down to figure out what we were going to about a talent. 

I bit my lip as I frantically googled if “talking innocent people into doing anything for you” is considered a pageant worthy talent. There was literally nothing that said this wasn’t allowed!!! Holy. Shit. Lisa might just win this thing after all. 

XO

Meet Lisa

In my experience as a paramedical aesthetician, I’ve counseled countless women on the health of their skin and also on the state of their lives. What I’ve discovered is, I have a lot to say. Since I’m also a mom, a doctor (regular listener of Dr. Radio), a wellness expert (I do yoga) and a trendsetter (everyone is eating sardines now), I can speak intelligently on a myriad of topics.

I write down my sage advice in my blog. You’re here and I’m thrilled. Face It…and Other News intends to empower you with the facts, or at least the facts as I see them. Jennifer Aniston’s youthful glow is not a result of using Aveeno and drinking Smartwater, but rather injections and laser. Nerium is not about reversing the signs of aging, but about making someone else a lot of money. The Korean massage fad is awkward, don’t bother. I’ll turn my home, my family, my friends and myself into science experiments, all in the name of learning. I want you to benefit from what I learn. You’ll thank me later. Promise.

Welcome to my world.

Our Lips Are Sealed

Lisa: Did you know our vaginas are atrophying as we speak?

Erin: Duh. This is why I suffer from anxiety. I lie awake every night worrying about my old vagina. So what have you signed us up for?

Lisa: I received an email from a doctor who wants to laser our aging vaginas. I checked all her credentials and she is the real deal.

Erin: I refuse to have my vagina lasered in a mall kiosk.

Lisa: This laser tightens everything up and we are going.

Erin: So basically we will be like virgins again…You probably can’t even remember that far back.

Lisa: Annnnd you will stop pissing yourself when you laugh. 

Lisa’s Version:

Months ago, I received an email from a Dr. Susan Schroeder in Colorado Springs, who explained that everything ages and wanted to rejuvenate Erin’s and my lady bits. EVERYTHING? I narrowed my eyes. I am the queen of anti-aging. Wrinkles, sun spots, laugh lines, acne? I cover it all…but the ole’ vertical smile? I wasn’t a slut in high school and I only have one kid, so I just assumed I was el perfecto south of the boarder. Obviously, this was absolutely unacceptable to me. We.Were.Going.

Admittedly, when Erin and I were driving to our first vagina tightening appointment, we were hyperventilating, passing a paper bag back and forth. In retrospect, there was nothing to worry about. We were ushered into a beautiful, pristine, super chic office and greeted by an entire staff of vagina tightening angels. 

Dr. Schroeder and her team explained that the procedure consisted of an exam, an internal laser and then an external laser. We would go back once a month for a total of three treatments. The assistant assured us it was “relatively” painless. We were brought back into a room and each given a razor since the procedure was considered ablative and hair can catch fire. Erin’s bush would have probably started a forest fire.

I went first. Erin stood over me and squeezed my hand. It totally looked like we were each other’s birthing coaches. Inside the vajay did not hurt. Outside hurt a bit. The love button hurt like holy hell. And then it was over. Over the next couple days we both started our periods and our vaginas swelled up like they had been stung by bees. Like a lot of bees. Annnnnd then….the magic happened.

Erin’s Version:

Truthfully, I was just going to support Lisa’s old, decrepit vagina. Not to be all braggy, but I sort of assumed my love glove was in pretty good shape. I always get an A+ on pap smears (I even tape the report card they send me on the fridge with my kids’ spelling tests.) I have had two c-sections and seen way worse camel toe in Lululemon yoga pants than my own. 

Honestly, the most traumatizing part of the entire experience was when Lisa and I had to shave our hoohahs next to each other. In that one moment, we valiantly crossed all healthy boundaries of friendship. We just sort of stood there, looking at each other, holding our pubes. I whispered, “Are pubes considered bio-hazard?” Lisa shrugged and I caught her eyeing my Louie Vuitton bag. I hissed, “OH.HELL.NO. We are not putting pubes in my designer purse!” We heard a knock on the door and quickly shoved them in the pocket. 

Lisa did go first and her assessment was entirely correct. The inside does not hurt. Much as I suspected, Dr. Schroeder confirmed that my love tunnel was significantly smaller (my words, not her’s) in stark contrast to Lisa’s gigantic one. I was laying there all smug until Dr. Schroeder explained that my vagina would definitely require more lasering on the outside. Omg. I had a saggy vagina. All these years, countless guests and no one bothered to tell me that I was flapping in the breeze. Weeeell not anymore folks. 

Verdict:

Ladies- This is preeeeeetty much the best investment you can make. We fully endorse Femtouch vaginal laser tightening and Dr. Susan Schroeder. We both noticed a SIGNIFICANT change after the second procedure. Three months later, our vaginas are amaaaaaaaazing. We can giggle without tinkling. Everything is tighter and happier. Lube is unnecessary. Sex is better. Our only advice is that you have to be extra careful not to yell out “THANK YOU DR. SCHROEDER” during your passionate lovemaking sessions, as it will totally kill the moment. Like try to stay focused. 

And Gentlemen- We encourage you not buy your wife a gift certificate to see Dr. Schroeder unless specifically asked. Just trust us on this one….

Perfect Skin Dermatology

Susan Schroeder, MD

719-421-7132

1259 Lake Plaza Drive, Suite #270

Colorado Springs, CO 80906

www.perfectskinderm.com

Superficial Vains

Erin: (Laying on Lisa’s table getting face lasered) “Ow. That fucking hurts. Are you about to start your period? Based on the joy you are eliciting from afflicting pain on my face, I can totally tell your progesterone levels are nonexistent.” 

 Lisa: “You know what hurts? When I tell you to quit picking your face and you keep doing it. In fact, my retinas are burning right now just looking at my ruined masterpiece.” (Angles laser)

Erin: (Zap) “Son of a Bitch. Dammit. Shit. Bitch. Mother fu-Oh, I forgot to tell you, we are getting anti-aging IV’s on Saturday!”

Lisa: (Zap. Zap) “Based on your breakout, it looks like you are already reverting to adolescence. Don’t worry though, they are just superficial.”

Lisa’s Version of Events

I picked Erin up from Starbucks, where she lives. I don’t usually “want” to get an IV unless I am in active labor or have eaten sushi from a strip mall (*also with Erin). We rolled up to this super chic IV place in a swanky part of town and were greeted by the second hottest dude I have ever seen (the first was the emergency room doctor who informed me I had gas, not appendicitis). I batted my eyes and casually purred, “I would just like something to reenergize me from all of the pilates and yoga I do. I am super flexible. Tee-hee.” 

I was pretty sure Hot Guy and I had established a soulful, fiery love connection and were going to end up entwined on a beach somewhere until Erin glanced up from the IV menu and said, “Oh, we definitely need two ‘Anti-Aging’ bags.” I glared at her. She then asked if they used “new needles because we don’t want AIDS” and requested we be seated as far away as possible from the people who were there for the flu because “that is just nasty.” Fantasy over. 

We were seated in cozy chairs with blankets, pursuing some health magazines when a nurse came over. She informed us she worked at a hospital emergency room and was an expert at administering IV’s. She quickly found the perfect vein on me. Unfortunately, the nurse claimed Erin had “superficial” veins and had to get poked twice. (BAM. That’s what she said.) I just laughed and laughed.

A few minutes later, some guy stumbled in and sat slouched over in a chair. Erin and I exchanged WTF glances. We happened to be there the morning after St. Patrick’s Day and obviously this ginger was out celebrating his heritage. However, based on his condition, I thought an IV seemed a little conservative. The dude needed a crash cart. But sure as shit, as soon as he was finished with his hangover bag, he skipped right on out with his IV punch card in hand. 

Erin’s Version of Events

Like usual, Lisa’s synopsis of events is somewhat skewed with the exception of the alcoholic redhead. That little leprechaun just came alive, clicked his heels and left to go buy a morning-after pill for whomever he hooked up with the night before. It was seriously the craziest thing I had ever seen. 

I had heard unnecessary IV’s were the newest rage and I wanted to see what the hype was. Of course I was going to bring Lisa. She is the only person I know who would actually go. Lisa will stop at nothing to be pretty, a quality I deeply admire in a person. 

I did get poked twice (heeeeey-oooooo) and was called “superficial” for the second time in one week. However, I knew when I took this job, it would require both mental and physical fortitude. And so here we are. Selflessly and courageously reviewing products, while sacrificing our bodies so that you know the truth. I am sure there will be some form of monument resurrected in our honor upon our untimely deaths by plastic surgery.

Lisa and I both agreed we felt absolutely no different when we left, except now our arms hurt and we had to pee. I planned on going home to nap after our taxing morning however, Mike called to tell me my kids were fighting. Lisa whipped the car over so we could get our nails done instead. 

We walked into the nail salon and because Lisa has the patience of an honest Mormon on her wedding night, she promptly ripped off her bandage. Blood started pouring out of her arm. I stood there frozen, laughing hysterically like I always do when I see someone bleeding. Everyone around us looked super grossed out. 

After Lisa manufactured a tourniquet out of the sleeve of her Lululemon jacket and received a blood transfusion, we settled back in our chairs. I had just arrived at the conclusion that the entire IV experience was totally stupid when out of nowhere my nail tech said, “You pretty enough to be stripper.” Lisa and I excitedly locked eyes. We decided to make appointments for the following week. 

Verdict

You should definitely go get an IV if you are a hungover redhead or a stripper.

If you would like us to provide you with an honest review of your product, please feel free to contact us. Please note we do not review pyramid scheme products, as we are vehemently trying to create one of our own and this would be a conflict of interest. 

Disco Party

Lisa Haigh Denver

Erin Moroni

The Text Exchange

Lisa: Do you want to go to a Korean bathhouse in a really bad part of town with me tomorrow?

Erin: Okay.

Lisa: We have to be naked.

Erin: You are going to be jealous of my svelte vagina.

Lisa: I will pick you up at 11:00.

Erin: Bye.

Lisa’s Version of Events

I wanted to go to a Korean bathhouse so I could blog about it. I have a total domineering personality so, it was not terribly challenging for me to convince Erin to go. These bathhouses are all the rage in California. Erin is going to act like a whiney little bitch when she tells her side but, I honestly had no idea that the bathhouse we went to was a covert sex house. Swear. To. God.

When I was informed of this establishment, I was simply told to be open-minded. I understood we would be naked the entire time and that we would be receiving massages. What I did NOT know is we would be showering in a community shower equipped with bar soap that had suspicious hairs and by “suspicious hairs” I mean disturbingly long pubes. I also had no idea that we walked in on two chicks getting it on in the steam room. Helllll-lllllo, I would have knocked.

The massage was admittedly a little aggressive…. Ninjas were literally climbing on top of us, slapping our arms and legs. I also do not recall being told that the “community” loofah they used to exfoliate us, would enter EVERY part of my body. As an esthetician, I was fine with my ass but, I totally drew the line when they tried to scrub my flawless face. Eew.

I avoided making eye contact with Erin because I could feel her retinas burning holes in my skin and frankly, her negative energy was ruining my Zen. Instead, I stared at her lady bits, figuring I would make us both dermatologist appointments for the following day and a couples therapy session for Friday to make amends. Truthfully, I will probably never invite her again.

Erin’s Version of Events

Lisa failed to mention that she also coerced our yoga instructor, Jen, to come with us. It was Jen’s birthday and a “Happy Ending” in a dirty Korean bathhouse is always a neat gift. Additionally, after a long anxiety ridden month waiting for what was ultimately Lisa’s negative diagnose for M.S., we decided to celebrate by contracting a venereal disease. Annnnd this is why I selflessly decided to go…to support them. Everyone should be my friend.

After visiting the shower room, I decided Jenny McCarthy’s anti-vaccination campaign was much less offensive than Cameron Diaz’s recent plight to end bush trimming. I exited the 70‘s disco party to go check out the “majestic waterfall” that Lisa had been describing. I was preeeeetty sure the waterfall was just a stream of asbestos and black mold pouring out of dilapidated ceiling tiles but, I didn’t want to ruin the party so I just stayed quiet.

To take my mind off of the situation, I tried to count all the tattoos of dream catchers and wolves on women’s arms as we all soaked in a dirty hottub together but, I lost count after 9,972. I then watched in fascination as our boobies kept floating to the surface while everyone else’s plummeted under. Jen wasn’t really speaking to either of us at this point but, I figured it was because she was so relaxed. I was happy to see her enjoying herself on her special day.

During my massage, Lisa’s voyeuristic vagina watched me the ENTIRE time so, I was never able to fully relax. It didn’t help that my masseuse gave me a titty twister and kept slapping me in the head, with her stomach and boobs. Lisa “claims” I was angrily glaring at her. The truth was, I was completely void of feeling at this point.

Anywho, we are all almost finished taking our third round of broad-spectrum antibiotics, anti-fungals and anti-viral medications. Our next Girls’ Day is our blood draw at an infectious disease clinic in six months.

Lisa- Thank you for taking us from the confines of our gated community, if for no other reason than to remind us never to do it again.

P.S. Happy Birthday Jen. We hope it was all that you dreamed of and more.

XO, Lisa & Erin

 

 

A Hairy Situation

 

Erin: I have decided we are going to go get Brazilian waxes.

Lisa: Okay.

Erin: That went over better than I thought it would. You are drinking wine, watching Lifetime and not really listening to me aren’t you?

Lisa: What?

Lisa’s Version of Events

I am not a person who holds grudges. I would like to say this is because I am so spiritually evolved, but truthfully I just have the shittiest memory ever. So when Erin informed me that we were going to get Brazilian waxes, I just assumed she wanted to spend time with me like everyone else in the world does.

I pulled up to Erin’s house to pick her and her sweet, innocent sister (whom she also demanded be in attendance) up and watched with squinty eyes as she loaded a styrofoam cooler full of ice packs into my car. She then plucked a Bible out of a bag of stuff she was donating to Goodwill and tossed it on the seat. Her kids asked where we were going. Without missing a beat, she said, “We are going to go get our lips waxed.” I didn’t even get her joke until like twenty minutes later because I was so stressed out.

Erin insisted the wax place was not actually where map quest, their actual website and the latitude and longitude of a space satellite said it was located. The three of us got out and started wondering around looking for it. We saw a redheaded (AKA ginger- for those who prefer political correctness) guy with a really long beard walking around aimlessly. Obviously, he couldn’t find the place either. At this point, my anxiety was skyrocketing. I just needed someone to wax my butt so I could return to the familiar comforts of my home.

Eventually, Erin placed a phone call and laughed heartily when she discovered they had moved. Haha. Fucking hysterical. We walked into the salon and immediately my keen intuition suggested something was askew when Erin simply had to sign in, while her sister and I had to fill out two pages of paperwork and provide a blood sample. Omg, what a little hussy.

Erin’s waxer appeared, they linked arms and skipped back to her room. I, on the other hand, got the skittish waxer who legit tried to pawn me off on someone else once she realized we were bloggers. I spent thirty minutes comforting her while she ripped my pubes out with hot wax.

I was nearly incoherent from nauseating pain when it occurred to me that our precious Erin had methodically plotted her revenge for the time I accidentally took her to that nasty Korean bathhouse months ago. Or, maybe it was because I laughed hysterically when I learned she was the homecoming queen in high school…Whatever her motive, Psycho made her point.

Erin’s Correct Version of Events

First off, I politely informed my sister she was going to accompany us on said excursion. Her birthday is right before Lisa’s and I decided to kill two cats with one stone (or however that stupid saying goes.) I wanted to get them something they would remember, something that would remind them of me…an ass wax.

The Korean bathhouse was indeed traumatizing, but the psychotherapy and shock treatments I have been receiving are totally helping. Annnnd while I was homecoming queen in high school, it wasn’t as though I made a shadow box containing my tiara in memorandum of this momentous occasion. People probably assumed I was a stuck up little bitch when I ran off the football field in front of hundreds of people after I was crowned. In truth, this event served as foreshadowing to what would later be diagnosed as a “severe anxiety disorder.”

Second, I never claimed that I was a waxing virgin. I clearly hold my body to a higher standard and the ungodly sights at the Korean bathhouse only solidified this postulation. Maybe my vagina is calloused or maybe I just got lucky because my waxer was going through a divorce and channelled her frustrations onto my lady garden OR maybe I am just not a giant baby like Lisa is.

My sister walked into the lobby white as a sheet, mumbling incoherently, with a hollow look in her eyes after her appointment. Shit. I totally forgot to tell her if she didn’t leave a little landing strip/ Hitler stash, her lady parts would resemble a naked mole rat. I just knew she was sporting the mole rat.

Meanwhile, Lisa was not talking to me and intently studying the display of waxing products. She plucked out the most expensive cream they had, claimed her “waxer preferred this brand for a post wax” and plopped it on the counter with a smug look on her face. I narrowed my eyes at her uppity vagina and handed over my credit card.

We got in the car, shoved the ice packs down our pants and drove to Starbucks in total silence. I f’ing knew I should have given them Chipotle gift cards.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Supplemental Income

 

Lisa’s Version of Events

I almost died last week when I accidentally poisoned myself.

Three days before I nearly died, I was laying on Erin’s bedroom floor after raiding her closet. *If you ever need to borrow a dress she has quite the selection. In fact, she has her very own expensive department store. You would not know this by looking at her since she wears yoga clothes every.single.day. She swears she’s not depressed. I am totally going to say something if she stops showering.

Anywho, while I was browsing Erin’s wares I decided her Tory Burch flip-flops would look better on me. Remember…Erin only likes to purchase designer apparel, she does not actually wear it. I plotted my exit strategy and informed her my flip-flops would match her skin tone better and just this once, I would be willing to switch shoes with her since I deeply care about her. She happily obliged. I think she even hugged me.

Our ADD encumbered conversation suddenly switched from wardrobes to supplements. I informed Erin of a supplement we should be taking for our skin health. She casually replied, “Oh, I already take that.” I sat there in stunned silence. Oh, I see…so I share my extensive beauty wisdom with her while she sits there casually sipping bone broth and hoarding her own beauty arsenal. I no longer felt guilty about taking her shoes.

Erin told me I could have her brand new bottle of the magical elixir. It is about time she did something for me. Erin cautioned me to start taking the product very slowly. Meh, I don’t have time for this “waiting” bullshit. You all know me, I go big, or I go home and watch Lifetime and do nothing.

Three days later, I woke up in the middle of the night with severe stomach pain. Omg. I was one of those women who didn’t know she was pregnant since I was clearly in labor. I just knew I was going to labor a human being NOW. I called Erin. Instead of being sympathetic like a normal person would be, she was like, “This.Is.Awesooooome!!! How much are you taking?! I am going to do it too!”

After five hellish, terrifying days of being held hostage by my bowels, I lost SEVEN repeat SEVEN pounds. My skin was glowing even though my eyes were sunken in but, I looked super gaunt for a photo shoot. Erin and I decided we were onto something and slapped our pictures on this supplement so we could start our own pyramid scheme.

Erin’s Version of Events 

I almost died last week when I intentionally poisoned myself.

I was laying on my floor watching Lisa try on my size 0 clothes. Lisa usually wears a 00 so you can imagine how distraught she was when my clothes actually fit her. She kept repeating she was “bloated and PMS’ing.” I just examined my cuticles and told her how pretty she was. I have learned this technique is the most effective when trying to soothe Lisa during one of her “episodes.”

Lisa is correct, I don’t get dressed. Everyday of my life is spent being covered in dog hair, boogers, peanut butter and my own tears. I have zero desire to elicit attention from the opposite sex. Why? Because another dude is just one more fucking person I have to take care of. I don’t even buy pistachios with shells because I am so lazy. In fact, I had to google what “Ashley Madison” was when it was all over headline news. *Although, I totally didn’t know that rogue Duggar was on there. Meow. Eyebrows up and down. Lick lips.

Furthermore, I have taken said beauty supplement for years but, it had never occurred to me to quadruple the recommended dosage like Lisa did. She acted like it was the end of the fucking world because she was going to poop out a baby. Hi. There are approximately three fire stations in a five mile radius of our houses that we could have dropped the kid/giant poop off at. She is absurdly dramatic.

Our bodies literally purged themselves of every toxin we had ever ingested. Lisa was able to rid herself of all the coke, meth and heroin she used last week. I purified myself of the five packages of my kids’ Avatar fruit snacks that I ate the day before. Yes, I did almost shit in my car but, I was trading it in the next day so it wouldn’t have even mattered. Honestly, the experience was entirely spiritual for me. Like I prayed a lot.

***If you too would like to shit away some lbs. while exercising your abs and boosting your self worth, please send us a check in the amount of $59.99! Become a distributer today and start making money while changing people’s lives through explosive diarrhea! Simply refer five of your friends and we will send you the kit. If you would like to host a party, we will generously give you a bonus bottle of the magic (equivalent of two giant shits). 

Love, 

Lisa & Erin

Meet Lisa

You know the friends who tell you how good you look in your yoga pants with yesterday’s make-up on? That you still look good as a platinum blonde; that age doesn’t matter and your skin is glowing? Well, that is NOT ME. Hi, I’m Lisa. In my experience as a paramedical aesthetician, I’ve consulted countless women on the health of their skin and on the state of their lives. What I’ve discovered is, I have a lot to say. Since I’m also a mom, a doctor (regular listener of Dr. Radio), an expert yogi (I do yoga) and a trendsetter (everyone is drinking bone broth now), I can speak intelligently on a myriad of topics. When I don’t know what to say, I make something up. Either way, you’ll learn something.

I write down my sage advice in my blog. You’re here and I’m thrilled. Face It…and Other News intends to empower you with the facts, or at least the facts as I see them. Jennifer Aniston’s youthful glow is not a result of using Aveeno and drinking Smartwater, but rather injections and laser. Nerium is not about reversing the signs of aging, but about making someone else a lot of money. The Korean massage fad is awkward, don’t bother. I’ll turn my home, my family, my friends and myself into science experiments, all in the name of learning. I want you to benefit from what I learn. You can thank me later.

Your friends won’t always give you the guidance you need. They mean well, and they make up a community of successful, supportive women you’re lucky to have in your life.  Let them host your baby shower and come to your Stella and Dot parties (I don’t want to do that anyway). I’ll be here to tell it like it is. Face it….at your age you should tone down the blonde and a little make-up doesn’t hurt.   I can be brutally honest and tell you your face is hairy (it is by the way). I believe the truth is an agent of change and of growth.  I am deeply invested in my chosen career path and I think living is like the ultimate joke. If you’re open to hearing me out, I won’t disappoint. Welcome to my world.

XOXO, Lisa

 

 

Disco Party

Erin Moroni

The Text Exchange

Lisa: Do you want to go to a Korean bathhouse in a really bad part of town with me tomorrow?

Erin: Okay.

Lisa: We have to be naked.

Erin: You are going to be jealous of my svelte vagina.

Lisa: I will pick you up at 11:00.

Erin: Bye.

Lisa’s Version of Events

I wanted to go to a Korean bathhouse so I could blog about it. I have a total domineering personality so, it was not terribly challenging for me to convince Erin to go. These bathhouses are all the rage in California. Erin is going to act like a whiney little bitch when she tells her side but, I honestly had no idea that the bathhouse we went to was a covert sex house. Swear. To. God.

When I was informed of this establishment, I was simply told to be open-minded. I understood we would be naked the entire time and that we would be receiving massages. What I did NOT know is we would be showering in a community shower equipped with bar soap that had suspicious hairs and by “suspicious hairs” I mean disturbingly long pubes. I also had no idea that we walked in on two chicks getting it on in the steam room. Helllll-lllllo, I would have knocked.

The massage was admittedly a little aggressive…. Ninjas were literally climbing on top of us, slapping our arms and legs. I also do not recall being told that the “community” loofah they used to exfoliate us, would enter EVERY part of my body. As an esthetician, I was fine with my ass but, I totally drew the line when they tried to scrub my flawless face. Eew.

I avoided making eye contact with Erin because I could feel her retinas burning holes in my skin and frankly, her negative energy was ruining my Zen. Instead, I stared at her lady bits, figuring I would make us both dermatologist appointments for the following day and a couples therapy session for Friday to make amends. Truthfully, I will probably never invite her again.

Erin’s Version of Events

Lisa failed to mention that she also coerced our yoga instructor, Jen, to come with us. It was Jen’s birthday and a “Happy Ending” in a dirty Korean bathhouse is always a neat gift. Additionally, after a long anxiety ridden month waiting for what was ultimately Lisa’s negative diagnose for M.S., we decided to celebrate by contracting a venereal disease. Annnnd this is why I selflessly decided to go…to support them. Everyone should be my friend.

After visiting the shower room, I decided Jenny McCarthy’s anti-vaccination campaign was much less offensive than Cameron Diaz’s recent plight to end bush trimming. I exited the 70‘s disco party to go check out the “majestic waterfall” that Lisa had been describing. I was preeeeetty sure the waterfall was just a stream of asbestos and black mold pouring out of dilapidated ceiling tiles but, I didn’t want to ruin the party so I just stayed quiet.

To take my mind off of the situation, I tried to count all the tattoos of dream catchers and wolves on women’s arms as we all soaked in a dirty hottub together but, I lost count after 9,972. I then watched in fascination as our boobies kept floating to the surface while everyone else’s plummeted under. Jen wasn’t really speaking to either of us at this point but, I figured it was because she was so relaxed. I was happy to see her enjoying herself on her special day.

During my massage, Lisa’s voyeuristic vagina watched me the ENTIRE time so, I was never able to fully relax. It didn’t help that my masseuse gave me a titty twister and kept slapping me in the head, with her stomach and boobs. Lisa “claims” I was angrily glaring at her. The truth was, I was completely void of feeling at this point.

Anywho, we are all almost finished taking our third round of broad-spectrum antibiotics, anti-fungals and anti-viral medications. Our next Girls’ Day is our blood draw at an infectious disease clinic in six months.

Lisa- Thank you for taking us from the confines of our gated community, if for no other reason than to remind us never to do it again.

P.S. Happy Birthday Jen. We hope it was all that you dreamed of and more.

XO, Lisa & Erin