This photo circulated yesterday of Courtney Stodden (literally) “taking the bandages off” after her breast augmentation surgery. Haha. Yes, very medical. All the doctors nod their heads: we know. But wait, breast augmentation surgery?! She already had big breasts, and also she is only allegedly 16 years old! You can read the full “story” if you really want to read the story, but she basically claims that no one encouraged her to do it and that it was completely her own decision, which sounds about right, and she says that she feels more like a woman now. Sure. It does start to seem like Courtney Stodden’s idea of what it means to “be a woman,” with surgical enhancements, explosive shenanigans, stunt relationships, niche music videos, and over-the-top costumes was lifted from the same Drag Queens for Dummies book that all of the beginning drag queens use, but sure, woman.
Here is the thing about all of this, though: It’s officially too much. We’ve had fun with Courtney Stodden ever since she first appeared on the scene, and the fact that she is a straight up child has never been of particular concern. She, and her parents, and her disgusting husband all seem to be on the same page, so what are you going to do? We have to talk about something and there are only so many posts you can write about Pizza Drones each day. And I’m not even saying that we are going to STOP having fun with Courtney Stodden, because if there is one thing I cannot see it is THE FUTURE. But seeing this picture of a clearly delusional, lonely, scared, little girl who is so miserable in her own skin that she already got plastic surgery at the age of 16, clearly in the hopes of getting a blog post written up about her on E!’s official website (successss – Borat voice) really moved me. Because, you guys, I know that life is short, but life is also kind of long. Let’s pretend that Courtney Stodden has five good years of being considered a cut-rate celebrity. That’s generous. Five years is generous. But if she gets those years, she will only be 21 when they are over. And then she will have to live the rest of her entire life. Eek! Not only will she have to live a whole life that she is clearly not equipped or in any way even remotely prepared to live, but she will spend the rest of it constantly chasing after this golden dream of getting the attention that she once received, going to ever more extreme and discouraging lengths to recapture former glories. “They used to write about me on blogs,” she will say to the raccoon chewing on her unpaid bills. It’s going to be a fucking nightmare. Sorry for the summer bummer. And so it is.