As we like to say, sincerely or otherwise: Ganda mo, teh.

Haba ng hair mo. And by hair we mean that curl in the middle of your forehead.

One 35-year-old pageant trainer Herbert Chavez has undergone all sorts of face-fuckery (and thigh-fuckery, i.e. surgical implants) to look like… I don’t know. Someone kind of famous, I think.

This Superman wannabe has been upgrading himself for the last sixteen years, and the mods include shaving off part of his skull, sewing in cray cray plastic tubes into his thighs, and injecting his lips with animal by-products.*

(If only it were that easy.)

Suspected of body dysmorphic disorder, which is basically a slew of high school am-I-fat-or-am-I-fat issues taken to the mental level, Herbert’s still not done eschewing his birth face. He’s already been turned down by plastic surgeons.

 

Undaunted, as a real superhero should be, he’s gunning for an operation in Japan that’s supposed to make him taller. If I am right, and I may be wrong, this one involves breaking your femurs and inserting titanium implants. That’s right, they snap your thighs in half.

Herbert’s pretty close to his goal. If his goal is to be a walking Belo billboard, that is. Rather than a page from DC comics.

The international sites that have picked his story up express a lot of bemusement at his occupation as a pageant trainer. “Whatever that means!” they say, and they shrug their broad white shoulders. We, being Filipinos and all-around suckas for beauty queens and queens in general… we know what that means. And we love it.

(Source) And thank you, NNTSNTMR, for telling us what to Google. You are heaven-sent, just as Herbert fancies himself Krypton-sent.

Also, pictures of Herbert’s room, (1 & 2)so you know that this supposedly skin-deep vanity really does cut to the bone.

_______________

* Before you lose your shit thinking he did this all himself, these are all horrifying ways of describing plastic surgery procedures: cleft chin creation, thigh implants, and collagen injections. It’d be pretty fucking dope if he did these all himself, though. With a tire iron, ideally. Or his laser vision.**

** What? He doesn’t have laser vision? Get on this, Belo!

(Thanks, The Daily Tangina!)