i’d be a terrible famous person.

for one, i have no talents to speak of unless you count sleeping like a baby on planes (yes, all 5’9″ of me) or at all times talking at a volume too robust for the current setting. it’s reminiscent of sandra bullock in miss congeniality when she has to participate in a beauty pageant and for the talent portion, she makes sounds with crystal glasses. that’s me in the story of life. that’d be me trying to be famous.

while randomly thinking about famous people one day (what? i know you’ve done it, too), i started thinking of other notable reasons why it’s not in the cards for me. for reasons 2-6, read along, my friends. you’re in good company.


this is a moot point. while jennifer lawrence can be charming while tripping over her dress + words, i highly doubt i’d be quite as endearing. one f-word out of me and everyone would ban me from everything ever. everyone already wants to do this and i’m not even famous (yet).


get out of my face. get out my house. get out of my life. while publicity is probably a necessary evil in the industry, nothing you ever have done, are doing or will do is private. nothing. within 2 days everyone would know that once upon a time i made out with a guy named eduardo + that in middle school, i was practically the world’s worst human.


i am not one of those people you can catch at any angle and look stunning. shall i provide photographic evidence? yes, yes i shall. no further explanation necessary.

(apparently the only faces i have are disgust / apathy or SO EXCITED)


give me a pair of brass knuckles. i’d be fighting these homies left and right. when people invade my personal space on a normal day when I KNOW THEM, i wanna throw down. so if it was some strangers trying to make a few bucks off my photogenic face, i’d punch theirs. ain’t i sweet?



(yes, i had to borrow cash from a friend for BOTH of these purchases because god forbid i choose between these health foods)

all this to say, I LIKE FOOD TOO MUCH. i can not (or will not) stop eating things like french fries so i look good at all camera angles. i’d be front page of those horrifically tacky magazines that put women on the cover like “SEE HOW TERRIBLE JENNA HARRISON LOOKS IN A SWIMSUIT” or “CAESAR D.F. AUGUSTUS! SEE THE AMAZING AMOUNTS OF CELLULITE ON JENNA HARRISON’S LEGS“. i mean, when you’re front-page worthy, you’re front page worthy. right, ladies?

there you have it folks. almost famous at it’s finest. anyways for booking, call my mom (just kidding, don’t). see you minions from the other side.


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