Me, My Sister, and a Queer Guy

So on Saturday my sister Margaret calls me and tells me that I HAVE TO come to the Mall of Georgia, which is like from here to Alpha Centauri away, because she's been selected for this big makeover thing. I go, and once again I find Margaret's use of hyperbole super annoying. The real deal is that there's this big L'Oreal promotion going on and they're giving everyone free makeup makeovers and lots of free samples. Problem? Their products are all lard-based. Ick.
The cosmetologist, or whatever these useless people like to be called these days, wipes off all my expensive, high-quality makeup and proceeds to coat my skin with disgusting L'Oreal paste. After the makeover, we went over to this counter where we got to meet this guy:

Yes, that's Kyan Douglas (whose name I am proud to say I did not know before), the "grooming guru" of the so-called fab five from "Queer Eye for the Straight Guy". I have to say, though, either he really doesn't know his shit or he totally sold out to L'Oreal, because I could literally feel my face breaking out on the way home. That's Margaret on the left.
He was very nice, but both he and his lackey before him asked us the same question:
"Are you two about to get your makeovers?"
We both giggled politely and said no, we had already HAD our makeovers. What I wish I had said is:
"No, we already had our makeovers. That's why we look like ghosts."
Becasue that crap is so thick and pasty.