Buyer's Remorse.

I did not hit an early mid-life crisis and buy a boat, Corvette and young wife. Or girlfriend. Though, right now I am wishing I had. Even the girlfriend bit.

Instead, I agreed to INVEST my Saturday in chaperoning a TWO HOUR bus ride up to Wilmington in a bus filled with twittering, aspiring-model girls. Which, might not be so bad, since they do idolize you a bit. Their eyes widen ever so slightly when they hear you are a model. Obviously, if this title is being applied to me, they use it rather loosely. But, since they are none the wiser, these girls want to be JUST LIKE YOU, plus a gastric bypass surgery, when they grow up. Or grow out, or whatever.

Where this Saturday really begins to detoriorate is the six and a half hour photo shoot that follows the two hour bus ride.

One word:

Model-Sluts-With-Incredibly-Bad-Boob-Jobs-Who-Look-Down-Their-Surgically-Enhanced-Noses-At-You

Joy and I, have in the past, fended them off with much humor and our innate ability to create coherent intelligent sentences. Which does, I must admit, give us a rather unfair advantage in the whole conversation department. Joy and I were Cute and Funny, Joy being cute, me being funny. But now, I am a gruesome half-creature known as Funny, leaning towards Odd. I cannot, do this alone! These girls are the depravity of man imposed in female form. Catty. Skanky. Brainless. In telling you this, not that I haven't said it before, it is me being incredibly wholesome and truthful, I see this as my opportunity to be Salt & Light in a world that is incredibly decieved when it comes to the entire beauty industry.



If I escape alive, without claw marks, I will let you know.