August 23, 2007
…I’m hardly modeling material either. However, someone named ‘Francesca’ seems to think I’d have a great career at modeling and is insisting I send ‘her’ a photo of myself. First off, I think ‘her’ is probably ‘he’ and not just any ‘he’ but a big, fat, greasy slob, at home, sitting in his skid marked undies, a huge beer gut covered in blackish-grayish hair, belly button lint overflowing, smelly pits, a piece of KFC in one hand and obviously typing with the other hand as all of this conversation is taking place on messenger. Unless he’s typing with his penis. Oh God, I just threw up a little in my mouth.
F: Hello, how are you?
Me: I’m fine, thanks
F:You remember me?
Me: Umm no, not really, sorry. Where do I know you from?
F: I find girls for modeling agency
Me: Umm oh. Well I’ve never been to a modeling agency so I highly doubt we’ve met.
F: You want model?
Me: Do I want to model? Sure if you’re looking for a 5ft 2in
forty twenty-five year old who may look demented sweet for her age but I’m thinking I’m past modeling career status. Plus, really, I could be an ugly troll who lives under bridges and eats people.
F: Show me your looks.
Me: Show you my looks? Damn, I just packed them away. Ah, well, my picture is in the display box of my messenger, so you can see what I look like.
F: Oh you beauty
Me: Well thanks but I’m still pretty certain I’m not what you’re looking for.
F: You send me?
Me: Send you what? A donut?
F: You send me photo.
Me: Ya sure, I’m going to send you a photo. I’ll get right on that. And by right on that, I mean, when it becomes fashionable to pee on total strangers. Wait, how about when pigs fly?
F: I’m in Milan, you in Milan?
Me: Oh ya, I go to Milan all the time. I just got back this morning actually. I was on a modeling job.
F: You making fun?
Me: Making fun of you? No. That’s not my style. Like I would be sarcastic. Like ever. Especially with someone who says they are Francesca looking for ‘girls’ for ‘modeling’ from ‘Milan’, which all sounds totally plausible. And certainly since you think I’m modeling quality, why would I make fun of you? That would be
fun rude of me.
F:I get back to you
Me: Oh I’ll be waiting with baited breath by the messenger! Be still my heart.
So betches, I might not be writing for awhile, you know, since I’m going to be in Milan posing n’ shit, while people take my photo while I look all pouty and stuff. Hey don’t be jealous, we can’t all be models.