there's a plate of homemade wishes on the kitchen window sill...

I spotted this ad for Premarin, a drug to cure vaginal dryness, during my Internet travels today.

My initial reaction: "Ew, Betty Buckley has a dry cooch?!?!"

I did not want to know about Grizabella's parched goodies. If Norma Desmond's nether regions have started to spark and smoke, kindly spare me the details, please. I'm not quite ready for that close-up, Mr. DeMille.

And then I clicked on the ad and after scrutinizing a few more photos, I was relieved to discover that, silly me, it isn't Abby Bradford, after all. It's some other old broad with a dusty beav. Dick Van Patten must be so relieved.

My second reaction: "Ew, is this what I have to look forward to in my old age?!"

So, let's see... we've got wrinkles, weight gain, brittle bones, hot flashes, a dowager's hump, elastic waistbands on polyester pants, butterscotch candy cravings and now it appears my snatch will become as dry as the Sahara, to boot.

Anyone know where I can get my soon-to-be-liver-spotted hands on some cyanide?