A Knockout!
The slightest glimpse of Sylvester Stallone’s silhouette is distinguishable around the globe. With his mopey downcast eyes and angst-rippled lips, his is a face brooding with clouds and shadows that, at a glance, is symbolic of bad news, a hard-knock life, or the drain of loss.
As for Sylvester Stallone’s features, which are less rocks falling from a mountain than mud sliding, hours and hours of eating uppercuts in the ring in pursuit of the role of Rocky did not sculpt. No, the undisputed one-in-a-million expression that weighs so heavily on the pugilist’s face, Bell’s Palsy cemented. Originating from a rocky birth.
Bell’s Palsy is the paralysis or severe weakness of the nerve that controls the facial muscles on the side of the face.
Patients suffering with Bell’s Palsy find, as by a snap of a finger, they cannot control their facial muscles, usually on one side. Things fall down; the eye sags, dries. Things fall apart; lips open, drool. And though (for most of us) not permanent or as rigid as stone, Bell’s Palsy can strike stick any face of any age.
According to researchers of Melbourne’s Brain Research Institute, the grip of Bell’s Palsy can be eased by the injection of Botox. Scientists found that certain unruly areas of the brain, including areas on the blink (but responsible for facial movements), may “come correct” after injections of Botox. If combined with facial exercises.
However, what if, in the irony of ironies, Botox itself causes symptoms similar to Bell’s Palsy?
Women facing the winter of life, in a useless effort to stop crow’s feet in their tracks and the baggage that sags around the rogue eye hell-bent on getting away with aging, will look with lust to Botox injections for rejuvenation. For a return to Spring.
The injection is said to feel like an iddy biddy pinch, like a harmless widdle mosquito bite, and works by temporarily weakening the muscles that produce facial expressions. Like puckering. Or knitting the brow. Once the muscles are treated at the needle’s prick, the pull of the muscle relaxes which results in a smoother complexion.
A lull in animation.
Generally, after an initial look-see, the potentially eye-poppin’ procedure only takes up to 15 puny minutes—a surprisingly thin slice of life. Slaves to the mirror often slip off to have it, like a nourishing snack, during lunch breaks.
From time to time, after Botox injections, a woman of eye-catching beauty such as Janice Dickinson, Gwen Stefani of “The Voice” (2014), or Nicole Kidman, twitching (like a crackhead) under pressure of staying forever young, may—in a single hideous blink of the eye—find she has a perpetual wink.
Please, people. Don’t throw shade. Men wink too.
The spectacle—a macabre and not-so-sexy squint—is known as . . . . . . . . Tha-tha-tha-tha-tha-that Popeye!
That Popeye is evident when one orb draws almost to a close . . . napping . . . as if drifting off into a hellish Clockwork Orange slumber. This extended-stay side eye, though sometimes subtle, is the stuff of side shows. It’s overblown.
The only cure for that annoying Popeye is the long, slow wearing off of the paralyzing poison. However, be warned. The freeze may not leave; like a long winter with icy fingers, the freeze hangs on. A permanent side-effect of the Bo-Toe.
Take the test. In a game of half-hearted peek-a-boo, take half your hands (not two) and gently blind one screwy celebrity eye and then her other. Boing, there you have it.
Still want some?
[Please, if you have a heart or just one good eye, join Blackbiter.com in the campaign to stop That Popeye. To keep it from floating all around this big blue marble, share the post!]
