I refuse to sell sex to get someone to read my words. There's maybe a ration of scandal but definitely not a tell all, just what I think. What I see.
Maybe if I used coveted curves to get noticed and I was aching to show them, maybe I could debut on the cover page. And it would grab you enough to look and read the tiny little caption about me. Instead I am lost in the semantics of storage and space. When fabric is void, does anyone really care who you are or what you have to say? A picture is worth a thousand words, that can live in infamy. The digital world is our very own gift and curse.
Models, so called and so self proclaimed models. You're not a model, you are tight flesh with youth on your side.
Sex prevails and will sell. Round one goes to sex.