Check it out, bitches. McGraw Hill chose me to represent the epitome of the Female of the species in their textbook Teen Health. Boo-ya. I was all “will there be hair and make-up, yo” and they said “no — you’re perfect just as you are.” Hear that? “Perfect.”
I’ve lost weight recently — can you tell? Check out my upper arms and the huge gap between my thighs. We tried loads of different poses, but they went with this one. I was fed-up. It was, like, five, and I’d been standing all day. I was all “Imma stand here till you clowns make up your minds,” and they said “show us more attitude, Baby,” so I tilted my hips, but they said “not that much attitude.”
You might be wondering about that lump under my arm. It’s not what you think it is. Don’t be rude, gutter-brain! It’s an in-grown hair that got a little out of control. I’m getting it seen to next week.
Speaking of hair, I said “since this is a paying gig, can I submit the receipt for my wax?” They said no. Cheap bastards. When I asked why, they said “we don’t require a wax.” WTF? I said “I will be naked, you know,” and they said “naked-schmaked.” “Is this a legal term?” I asked, and they said “kinda.”
One thing I am disappointed with is that you can’t see my face. That’s what happens when they show you from behind.