You know, one minute you’re in your early-ish 30s, and you think you have everything under control or whatever… Then in the blink of a damn (wrinkly) eye, you’re 39 and barreling toward the on-ramp of 40, and you’re at the Sephora with these under eye bags you could use to pack for a two month cruise – begging “Help me Guillermo, HELP ME!” while shaking the makeup artist by the shoulders, and you realize that shit is getting REAL, yo!
Seriously. Fix it, Guillermo.
Fix. It.
Just sayin’.
Reluctantly Suburban 