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.