No eyebrows to been seen here, folks!

My mother used to be a pretty famous ballroom dancer. We’ve got all kinds of big boxes of awards and trophies in the attic. Today I use one of those trophies in the bathroom to hold my toothbrush. But, she doesn’t compete anymore. She still dances like crazy—mostly in our kitchen while steeping over our three dogs-- but she doesn’t compete. So, lately she’s been working on getting rid of her old dresses.

And that’s where I come in…

Ladies and Gentlemen, meet, your model.

Your headless model.



Mum’s afraid that if someone is able to see my head they’ll somehow be able to track me down (by how you may ask, well don’t) and… I don’t’ know… kill me? Steal the dress she’s selling on E-bay? Not sure. But I did discover that it’s apparently taboo in her mind to take a picture of me and put it up online where someone can see my face. Because the close-up boob shoots apparently don’t bother her maternal mind, but good lord, if someone saw my eyebrows!

P.s. For a tax update: the IRS sucks and I'm about two steps away from beating myself senseless with a big roll of 1040 forms.