Thursday, January 12, 2012

DESCRIBING KATE MOSS’ FACE TO A GUY WHO IS SITTING DOWN LIKE A FASHION PHOTOGRAPHER EXCEPT HE LIVES IN OKEECHOBEE WITHOUT A CAMERA

Her neck is a seashell, but you don’t know what this is because you don’t live near the ocean.

Her lips are the color of a Ferrari after you have given it a good buffing and a generous coat of wax.

Her cheeks are the color of rust on an old lawn mower in the shed just as the sun comes into that old shed and shines on that old lawnmower.

Her eyes are the color of World War I uniforms that the British wore, which is interesting, since Kate Moss is British.

I think Kate Moss is British.

Her eyebrows are sort of bumpy not buttery smooth - if you went down them in a sled your butt would hurt and you would slide down into her nostrils, which look like a magnificent hawk that hunters love to shoot when the hawks swirl up in the sky and drift in the clouds in the sky.

If you are lucky, you might not end up in her nostrils when you sled down her eyebrows but instead her mouth, which is scrumptious, and occupied by teeth that look like polished Chicklet peppermint gum nougats.

These are the gum nougats that Ferrari owners prefer to keep in their cars. It relaxes them, which is extremely important if you drive a Ferrari.

Kate Moss’s hair is like Eddie Munster’s hair.

It’s the only thing about Kate Moss that I don’t understand.

But I don’t want to either. I like a little mystery in my life, and a dash of laughter.

Kate Moss is looking at you right now and asking you why.

Tell her you don’t know why. That’s just the way things are. But everything changes.

Everything changes.

Kate Moss wants to know when.

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