If Einstein needed Botox to get a job, the Allies might have lost WW2, My Favorite Martian wouldn’t have been in prime time, and Dick Tracy would have been talking into his necktie instead of his wristwatch.
Now I’m trying to picture Marlo Thomas with hairy legs and I can’t do it. Long leg hair in sheer stockings is like vacuum packed seaweed.
Fairies broke into my bedroom while I was sleeping and inflated my waistline. That’s the only explanation I can think of for the thickening around my middle.