Gravity

Sir Isaac Newton "discovered" it. John Mayer wrote a song about it. As we age, we become all too aware of it and mostly, we just hate it. Its constant pull is responsible for the sagging and bagging, growing and crowing. Like it or not, everything we own is plunging earthward. The size of a man's ears can reach dumbo proportions. People's eyelids become eye flaps and the eyebrows just naturally move closer to the cheeks. But lately, I've noticed more and more women with that "surprised" look on their faces. It's that Botox look. You know the one. The eyebrows are arched an inch higher than they should be and they're not budging. And the worry creases between the eyes have magically disappeared. Little injections into the forehead will do the trick. It will seemingly whisk years of gravity's damage away with one or two stabs. Every few months. Forever. Stop the treatments and your eyebrows will become your mustache. I think I may refrain from ever starting the stuff. As much as I hate the effects of gravity, I hate the thoughts of needles in my forehead worse. Needles injecting a deadly toxin, well that's just seems insane.