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By paulm Community Blogger Author bio | report |
She teeters on the edge of the chair, wearing a blonde helmet of big hair and enough mascara to eclipse the sun. Her skin is a burnished tan. Her face is too tight to smile. She is stitched into a glittering cocktail dress that just barely contains her two inflated breasts aimed at me like twin torpedoes on a battleship.
“Make me look twenty-nine again,” she croaks. She is not kidding. She sucks her martini and grimaces. This is a corporate party, my least favorite gig. Black ties and trophy wives. Designer drinks and deep pockets. She is never going to look twenty-nine again.DISCLAIMER: The opinions expressed in this and other user-submitted content do not necessarily reflect the views and opinions of OnMilwaukee.com, its staff, its advertisers and/or its partners. This user-submitted content has not been checked for factual accuracy, and any photos uploaded have not be verified to be copyright-free. It is the user's responsibility to post text and/or photos that belong to that user and do not violate any copyright or intellectual property laws. If you feel this content is abusive, offensive or otherwise inappropriate, click to report and we will review this blog entry.
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Posted by Aardvark on Dec. 9, 2008 at 9:39 a.m. (report)
Creepy...
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