Breast implants? They were not enough. Collagen injections? Not enough. Liposuction of the hips, thighs and stomach, God dammit, was not enough. A $10K procedure just to lift the sagging skin on her knees wasn’t nearly enough either, and kind of disgusting to boot. Even offloading that old sack of swaggering Republican shit Bruce Willis was. Still. Not. Enough. To freshen. Demi. Moore’s. Career.

Indeed, Demi Moore is older than dirt, and man, she’s pissed about it. Pissed, pissed, old dirt. Please make a note of it.

“When I was 20, it was easy to get a job. I’d just flash my prefect tits, wrap my perfect legs around the director, and bang his fucking bones apart. It was especially great if they were pedophiles—as most are, you know— because from many angles, I looked like a small boy. But…but now…now…” Demi said in a recent interview, and then almost broke down in tears, and would have for sure, had there been any moisture left in her body. “Now I can’t even get arrested in the movie business. Casting directors call me “ma’am”, and when I try to seduce them, well…one of them even threw up a little in his mouth. I’m so old a disgusting! I just want to fucking DIE!”

In the last several hundred years, Demi Moore (whose name is from the Sanskrit meaning, “Sort of a Wasteland”) has spent billions of dollars on teams of nutritionists, personal trainers, yoga teachers, botox-injectors, kick-boxing coaches, personal chefs, high colonics, Satanic Priests, Crest Whitestrips, Horse Whisperers, injections of liquefied goat fetus and the blood of virgins to maintain her hellish youth, but gravity, ever implacable, as taken it’s terrible toll.

“Don’t just fucking stand there! A virgin! QUICK! Somebody bring me the blood of a fucking virgin!” she said recently, as parts of her sifted to dust.

Ashton Kutcher was busy feeling like a trapped trophy boy and could not be reached for comment.

by Adrian Ryan

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