Sunday, January 29, 2006

Cher's Gams and More!

While Ms. Gomes is taking a brief break from her tour (Ethel's septum is healing up nicely), The Gomes Group would like to reward her fans for their patience with another thrilling excerpt from her verbal memoirs.

I know that it’s en vogue to talk about your plastic surgery these day so Geoffrey thought that I should include some tell-all stories about my zany cosmetic surgery mishaps. Well, I thought about it for quite some time (and by that I mean that I had Geoffrey write it on a post-it and stick it to the john) and I figured if that tight-faced troll Joan Rivers could do it, so could I.

Now, I have a theory that women should age gracefully and should be proud of their wrinkles. I also have a theory about Lee Harvey Oswald and the cast of Three’s Company but that’s neither here nor there. But I also believe that a lady should look her best if she’s going to be inspiring and entertaining throngs of adoring masses. That’s why I’ve compromised and only had the bare essentials done (three face lifts, a chemical peel, rhinoplasty, boob job, calf implant (but just the one calf), full body liposuction, and ankle replacements). And I have to tip my hat to the Merlin of the scalpel Dr. H.J. Rosenwigenhammerstein of Beverly Hills for believing in a poor international superstar who was down on her luck and let me get most of these procedures done on credit.

The first time that I ever had plastic surgery was in 1978 after my television series “The Facts of Crystal” was about to be cancelled midseason. The producers said to me, “Crystal you’re a dynamo, but it looks like you’re face is melting worse that a Malibu igloo. Get something done or we’ll have to replace you.” Now I was absolutely appalled. No one had ever spoken to Crystal Gomes like that (except for maybe Sinatra, but after that night in Reno, I really had it coming).

So, I told off the producers, got Geoffrey to pull the car around, and then had Geoffrey apologize to the producers as he drove me to Dr. Rosenwigenhammerstein’s office. I wasn’t prepared to let go of a hit show just because of something silly like self-respect.

Dr. Rosenwigenhammerstein was a miracle worker. With a stroke of his trusty surgical equipment I went from George Burns to Lena Horn is three short weeks. After the swelling went down I went back to the studio to try to get “The Facts of Crystal” up and running.

The producers took one look at me and said, “Crystal your face looks great, but I think that left calf of yours looks a little flat. Get something done about it or we’re calling Cher. That woman’s calves could stop a locomotive full of jews.” I know for a fact that that was a true statement. I had seen Cher, with my own eyes, stop a train in Munich just by showing a little gam. And it was also true that I had taken some shrapnel in my left calf during the war when I was trying to get to the officer’s lounge from Schwartzkopf’s tent to refill my martini bowl during a little friendly fire.

At that time, “The Facts of Crystal” meant more to me than a few thousand dollars and a quickie in the locker room of LA General. So I called Dr. Rosenwigenhammerstein again for a little of his surgical voodoo. Geoffrey was a little worried about me going under the knife so quickly after my last surgery but I assured him that the good doctor knew what he was doing and that Geoffrey could have a reoccurring walk-on part in “The Facts of Crystal” if he would just shut his fancy little mouth for once. He started weeping like a woman and said that he was just worried that he may lose me and that he wouldn’t be able to go on living if that was the case. I patted the boy on the head and reminded him that I couldn’t stand to see people crying due to my bothersome lack of personal moisture. He got a hold of himself and flounced out of the room as I prepped my calf for surgery.

Well, to make a long story the appropriate length, the surgery went like gangbusters. I got the implant and rushed back to the studio to show of my new stems to the producers. They were finally satisfied and I went back to work the next day, where I filmed the infamous scene where Lucy Ricardo guest-starred as my Chinese houseboy.

I went under the knife again four years after that to get my full-body liposuction after the steroids that I had been taken had given me a fatty gall-bladder and I just decided to get the whole shebang taken care of in one fell swoop. Geoffrey wept again right before that surgery and begged me not to get it done, and I reminded him of the success of the Lucy Ricardo episode and I asked him if I had ever steered him wrong before. He clung to my leg the whole way to the operating room, but after feeling my taut, shapely calf, realized how silly he had been acting.

Take that Joan Rivers.

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