It sucks knowing that my face, of which I have only one, could be taken and used in an advertising, used to sell guns maybe, or as the “before” picture in an advertisement for acne medication.
I was always good at the lighter stuff. The feature stories. But after a month, the editors needed writers, and they liked me enough to start giving me some hard-hitting stuff.
“If I knew they were going to buy food with it, I’d totally give them money, you know?”
The attention to detail is magnificent. Notice the ever-so-noticeable sparkle in the tooth at 0:43.
Well, today is the day I let him know the truth. Wake him up to the dangers that lie in our midst. And I MUST keep my resolve. No matter how many ear scratches he tosses my way.
Writers who decide they want to BE A WRITER forget that, because they’re so concerned with “sounding like a writer” that they become more concerned with sounding smart than they do with communicating what they’re trying to say.
This notice also refuses to acknowledge the argument that using Facebook 10 hours a day and complaining about it for eight of them is akin to washing your hair every day with bleach and then screaming how mad you are that your hair is yellow-green and falling out in patches.
I know if I keep up this meta-commentary any more that you will move from “charmed” to “annoyed” rather quickly, if you aren’t there already.
Well, what’s the pants policy?