Can you believe that Jessica Alves, 40, has had 74 plastic surgeries?
The girl enthusiastically shares her gorgeous images of herself on the internet. Alves never passes up the chance to showcase plastic surgery on his social media profile. Alves gained the support of the crowd a few days ago when he participated in a picture session by the pool in front of the spectators.
Online users, however, were incensed by this behavior. A few of them left extremely offensive comments on her social media accounts.
“How did you get into this situation?”
“Why none of the surgeons declined is beyond me. Is it not apparent to you that she is insane?
“A case that was overlooked,”
And why? Is fame really the motivation behind it?,
“Why waste life in that way? It’s just one thing.”
“I can only image how nerve-wracking 74 body plastic surgery procedures can be,”
“What a miserable woman. She requires expert assistance.,
Internet users react on this article with the sentiment, “It’s a shame.”
My neighbor pelted my car with eggs because he claimed it obstructed the view of his Halloween decorations
When sleep-deprived mom Genevieve discovers her car covered in eggs, she thinks it’s a prank — until her smug neighbor Brad admits he did it because her car was ruining the view of his elaborate Halloween display. Furious but too exhausted to argue, Genevieve vows to teach him a lesson.
I was bone-tired, the kind of tired where you can barely remember if you’ve brushed your teeth or fed the dog.
My days had become a blur since the twins were born.
Don’t get me wrong, Lily and Lucas were my adorable darlings, but wrangling two newborns mostly by myself was a Herculean task. I hadn’t slept a full night in months. Halloween was just around the corner and the neighborhood buzzed with excitement, but not me.
I could hardly muster the energy to decorate, let alone keep up with the suburban festivities.
Then there was Brad.
The man took Halloween so seriously that you’d think his life depended on it. Every year, he turned his house into a haunted carnival complete with gravestones, dioramas of skeletons, huge jack-o’-lanterns, the works.
And the smug look on his face every time someone complimented him? Please.
His spectacle enamored the entire block. But me? I was too busy trying to keep my eyes open to care about Brad’s ridiculous haunted house.
It was a typical October morning when everything started to unravel.
I shuffled outside with Lily on one hip and Lucas cradled in my arm. I blinked at the sight before me. Somebody had egged my car! Broken bits of shell were stuck in the semi-congealed goo, which was dripping down the windshield like some twisted breakfast special.
“Are you kidding me?” I muttered, staring at the mess.
I had parked in front of Brad’s house the night before. It’s not like I had much choice. The twins’ stroller was impossible to push all the way from down the street, so I’d parked close to our door.
At first, I thought it had to be a prank. But when I noticed the egg splatters reached all the way to Brad’s front porch, my suspicion turned into certainty.
This had Brad written all over it.
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