For the last couple of months, I've been enjoying a shameful, guilty pleasure.
Yes, it's the Janice Dickinson Modeling Agency. There she is, left, at her... ribbon cutting. (This guy should probably look a little more worried, given that a hopped-up person with an apparent mood disorder is holding that giant pair of scissors awfully close to his, well....)
And tonight is the season-ender. Pink slips, my friends, for all those little model wannabes who don't measure up to Janice's "standards." Here's a taste.
(P.S. Don't worry Erin and Katie-- I'm taping the whole series for both of you.)
Now I must hang my head in shame and return to my writing.