"As I looked around the beach, I saw in the jaundiced light of my unhappiness, the full extent of the horror of this Island of Dr. Moreau I'd willingly marooned myself on. The full spectrum of plastic surgeries gone wrong - right there in the open, curiosities of the flesh, which at a lesser income level would have been confined to the carnival sideshow: mouths that pulled to the side, lips plumped beyond credibility, cheeks filled with golf ball-like lumps, and foreheads frozen so tight you could play a snare drum on them. Identical noses... eyes that refused to blink and could barely even close...
And there was my date for the night, in her thousand dollar plain white T shirt. Searching - once again - for her cell phone."
I think I would like to hang out with Anthony Bourdain.
And there was my date for the night, in her thousand dollar plain white T shirt. Searching - once again - for her cell phone."
I think I would like to hang out with Anthony Bourdain.
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