Monday, August 30, 2010
Lindsay has a few things in common with my ATF, Chanel. They could have everything, yet they screw up big time. But still they can afford the detour so far.
Chanel's vice is gambling. She became a hooker to cover her debts because it's not a big deal for her friends who also did it. Once she did it, it's no big deal and she kept doing it to pay for her lifestyle.
They are about the same age. And because of who they are, they tend to get along with people older then them, and they tend to act more mature, superficially.
Lindsay and Chanel are not known for their bodies, but they are proportional, sexy, good looking with clothes on and off. They can't be models and in commercials but I prefer them to Paris Hilton any day.
They once have an angelic face, and no matter how screwed up they are, they still have it. Chanel looks like she has been in and out of prison, if you compare to Lindsay's pictures. At the worst of times, I would told myself that's the last time. It's not bad at all but she had no edge over other hookers. It came to a point when her looks do not worth putting up with her attitude. But everything can change for the better all of a sudden if she wants you, or your money.
Chanel always made me do things by looking into my eyes smiling, and move slowly to within an inch of my eyes. It was most effective when she had absolutely no makeup on.
It's not awkward hanging out with her. Top of the range sun glasses and high heels make her looks older than she is, standard issues for well to do housewives. Her favorite clients (who pay well) are all older so she can handle me, except for the occasional nuclear explosion.
I have healthy hair like a 20 year old, and the hair dressers will cut it like a 20 year old. The little salt and pepper that I treasure will be all gone after a haircut.
I have no railway lines on my forehead. Mrs Player neither. I have to research the old pictures of our parents to see if that's genetics or environmental (physical and mental). It's a sensation at school open day with our kids together.
On vacation my babe magnet in her floaty with half my genes managed to attract a swam of school girls in bikini, flocking to her like moth to fire. On another occasion a single mother with a better body than Lindsay showed off her body a few feet away from me, slowly and thoroughly rubbing on her sun screen. I was alone and the pool wasn't that crowded.
Imagine when just me taking my babe magnet out. People shout her name half a mile away, when I can't even remember her name. The problem is, I think, I don't wear my ring, using skin problems as an excuse to Mrs Player. So I never need to take it off for any reasons, will never lose it and get in trouble. Females who like babies consciously or unconsciously will not mind my instant one. As long as I can pay for everything, I cannot be the wrong guy it seems. I will wear my ring starting from the new school year.
Lindsay and Chanel at least have one good point about them. CD sunglasses, LV bags, Louboutin shoes are no longer their problems. Lindsay is obviously unfilled, though I don't know if she desires bigger toys. Chanel is way pass that. She would just settle for someone she could talk to, get along. Age is not the issue but still you have to be half as rich as her boyfriend - that's only to replace social security I would like to think.