Sunday, August 12, 2007

Tan: You Handle It?

I may or may not be a Secret Shopper in the greater Chicagoland area. This being or not been said, I may or may not have "fake baked" for the first time.

Ok, I did.


It was free, thank god.

But gross.

"I love Amy Winehouse's new song! Lemme crank up the volume on my personal radio! ::dances around the booth...?::"

"Is that the smell of my flesh burning?! Ewwwwwwww!"

::24-hours AND two showers later::
"Is that the smell of my flesh burning...STILL?! Ewwwwwwww!"

Tanning makes me feel like I'm buying (or is it renting?) a prostitute: it's fun while I'm inside, but it's nothing but tawdry guilt, smelling awful, and feeling sticky afterwards.

Tanning's nothing more than ultra violet prostitution.


Michelle said...

Bitch, don' hate! Wuh-EH-vuh! Iss MY hot body, I'll do what I want. Don' hate!

-William said...

IhateitIhateitIhateitIhateit. Ugh. I'd rather subject myself, and my poor, undeserving neighbors, to a backyard layout.