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Sorry, but we don't accept compliments here; now be a good girl and go play with your dollies.

My hands are soft, people!
Not greasy soft, or gummy soft, or smelly soft, but silky, scent-free, hallelujah-can-it-finally-be-the-search-is-over soft.
I just wanted to say thanks.
Holiday spirit, and all that.

So I take my velvety hands and I traipse on over to the AVEENO website contact page, full of good-intentioned love for the oxymoron known as corporate humanity. Once there, however, I wind-up grinding grittage between my teeth when faced with the inane---and required---personal info form [yes, I'm a consumer, and a missuss, and oldish, alright? do you have any idea how far down i have to scroll to even locate 1962? thanks for the mortality update, leech-wads!].

Spirit bent, but not broken, I persevere:

just a note of thanks. i thank you, my former alligator elbows thank you, my previously crackled feet thank you, and my hands no-longer-rough-and-snaggy thank you. bye-bye neutrogena, clinique, and st. ives; another INTENSE RELIEF HAND CREAM convert, here.
sincerely smooth at last,

Click SUBMIT with a gloss-pink fingertip, and---what the?
[leech-wads commence snickering]
This javascript pop-up appears on screen:

"Sorry, you must be at least 13 years of age to use this function of the website."

Nineteen-sixty-two, people!
I re-check my info---it's all correct, but the site WILL NOT let me send my positive message.
Good will toward----ah, fuck it!

anamomda scowls, clenching frustrated fists like buttah.

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