GAHHH! … Sorry, what I meant to say is hello and welcome. You’ll have to excuse me; I’m not used to faces that are quite so… dehydrated.
I see that the pockets of your denim pants are full of free samples, which means you’re probably going to ask if I take insurance. Might I suggest you see a student esthetician at the cosmetology school in the basement of Walgreens instead? Their clients hardly ever go blind.
No need? So, in order to pay me, you’ve taken out a loan the size of a down payment on a seaside mansion? C’est bon.
Now, let’s take a look at your face with the most horrifying magnification tool I have.
Furrow your brow. Unfurrow it. Smile. Frown. Jump up and down. Spin around. Sit. And don’t ever forget that you’re mine now. I own you.
All righty, I see acne and wrinkles. I guess it’s wrong what they say—women can have it all.
Regarding your eyes, if there were a crow with feet so enormous that all the other crows shunned it, causing this crow to die alone in its little crow apartment, those would be your crow’s feet.