Not Chosen, Just Posin'

I just got a job with a Jewish magazine. I'm not Jewish. They think I am.

Monday, November 06, 2006


This weekend the Manwhore stopped by with the Israeli girl.

I'm sick yet again (still?) so he thought he'd use me as a subject for his double ploy to get into her pants (as if he even needs a gimmick at this point):

1) He wanted to look good in front of the Israeli Girl
2) He wanted to add in a minute Jewish detail to the mix to further prove his authenticity

He accomplished both single-handedly by resorting to the oldest trick in the book: Matzoh Ball soup.

He brought me a pot of it, said something about how it was his mom's recipe and patted me on the back. I'm sure she was impressed, which means that she probably tried to make out with more strippers at some club that night and subsequently got rejected.

By the way, the background on her is slowly coming to surface. She has been one of the Manwhore's clients since moving to the states (remember, he's a personal trainer). Evidently he saw potential in her from the beginning and has held her hand through the training processes. Sometimes I hate the bastard, other times I just wonder why I'm not a personal trainer.


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