I romanticize. I live with the ghosts of Elvis and Frank Sinatra. It seems so glamorous. They were American men who don't exist anymore. But there are ugly things about them, too.
My relationship to food is that of an acrophobe to a bridge. Unease masks a desire to jump.
Like most guys, I don't come to beauty regimes naturally. I'm dragged kicking and screaming by the best in the world.
For un-subscribe please check the mail footer.