I am like sponegbob under a heat lamp

parched, dry hills and plains
landscape is also itchy
tableau of dry skin

I was reading some snarky magazine article the other day and the writer insulted someone by calling her "moisturizer challenged."


I can’t help but be insulted by this because I am always and constantly and forever and non-stop scritch-scritch-scritching away at my dry skin. I mean, when I walk down the street I don’t think I’m some disfigured piece of parchment breaking off clumps of appendages when the wind hits me right, but my skin is dry and I don’t do a very good job of keeping up with my Aveeno regime.

But "moisturizer challenged"? What does this bit of snark mean? Aging before your time? An unfortunate bearer of premature old lady hands? I just don’t know how someone could look at someone else and judge them by their moisturizer use. And I don’t mean that like "I don’t HOW they could DO that!" I mean it like, for real, how can you even tell?

It’s just one more thing I have to keep up with, isn’t it? Height challenged, perky boobies challenged, patience challenged, and now moisturizer challenged?

It’s a creative insult, though, and would require a bit of thinking before you can employ it. So just for the, uh, challenge of it, I think I’ll add this insult to the repertoire of things i shout at people when I’m driving. Instead of just hollering, "You dumbass nut sucker!" I will glance out the window, assess the rickety-ness of said driver’s appearance and then I will let loose. "You moisturizer challenged ass clown, get out of my way!

I dig it.

One thought on “I am like sponegbob under a heat lamp

  1. hi kari, its yr old friend amy d
    on the moisturizer tip, perez hilton is always making fun of people who have “corpse hands”. he will show a magnified photo of some poor celebrity’s hands looking like they were rode hard and put away wet at the oscars or wherever. and i always think to myself “if i was famous, perez would totally target my corpse hands.” until he got a shot of my cellulite . . .


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