My boss is always asking me to be in photo shoots for our marketing material.

Last time she wanted me to pose as a heroin addict.
Cos, I’m always, like, hiding in stationary cupboards and shooting up.
Or maybe I just look dodgy, or something.

Anyway, I said no to being a junkie model.

She tried her luck again this week.

She asked… well, more like begged … me to pose as a bone marrow cancer patient.

Cos they have no hair. And I have a stubble head.
But I’d have to shave off my goatee as well. To which I replied:

Fuck, and
Off.

Then she mentioned Cash In Hand, if I shaved and did the shoot.

$500 cash.

To which I replied:

OK.

Does that make me a whore?

The photo shoot was today.

I look ridiculous without the goatee I’ve had for the past decade.
Which is not good, when you’re due to meet a Professional Drunk Blogger at the airport tomorrow morning…

I look like I’m 16 again.
Which might be cool when I’m a sleazy 70-year-old trying to pick up teenagers, but it’s not the look I’m currently going for.

And, WTF?! When did my cheeks get so chubby?

No, I’m not posting photos.

Technically, this tragic type of cancer patient also has no eyebrows.

My boss was hinting about whether I would shave them as well.

Which I would.
For $1500 (The cost of an entry-level digital SLR).
She didn’t have the budget for that.

Her: “Well, we COULD instead just take you out to the pub and get you drunk and shave them off when you pass out…”

Me: “It’s still going to cost you a shitload of cash to get me THAT drunk”.

Or they could save their cash and just wait till I pass out in the stationary cupboard...