Jim, Jimmy, James, Jimbo… whatever. And Destin gets a Spray Tan.
Yes, I got a spray tan. And if nothing else, I look less pasty. Not that there is anything wrong with pasty, but if my white ass is going to be telling the girls to stop being so sickly pale, I guess I should take a spoonful of my own medicine. The weirdest part though (aside from feeling compelled to dye my skin with fruit extracts sprayed from an airbrush on a regular basis), is the ‘tan line’. I feel like the Coppertone baby.
On to the Millionaires Club… this week we had the two Jims – Jim and Jimmy for the sake of this blog. Jimmy, Rach’s guy, is an older looking chap with a simple personality and about three six packs under his shirt. Doesn’t compete with the keg I have, but that’s probably a good thing. He’s nice enough, but kind of a drip.
My millionaire, Jim, though – is the bomb. He’s a sweet guy, in the film business like myself, funny, self-deprecating and kind. Love him. If I had a millionaire like him every week, my job would be so much easier. Matter of fact I will offer a GENEROUS commission to anyone that refers me a few more like this that pay for our services. Seriously, I’m not kidding. Help make my life easier!