Cover Girl? What?
Oh, Cover Girls. Damn.
There’s a two-week minibreak at SVH so the students can take two-week internships. Actually, not a bad idea, Chrome Dome, it’s good to give these kids a slice of the real world. Except it would make for a boring series if the twins were REAL interns- making photocopies and staring at a computer. I’ll give you my opinion about interns- if they don’t have a specific role or position, they are really a pain in the ass. I was at a previous job when I supervised several interns and it was actually way more work for me to give them things to do, and when I did, they complained it wasn’t enough substance. What did they expect, they weren’t getting paid! Ugh. Anyway, I’ve uncovered the ads that the twins answered when looking for their internships.
Looking for an aspiring writer, who despite turning up their nose at fashion mags, suddenly will attach their lips to the ass of anyone that works in the editorial department. Preferred qualifications: someone who is so full of themselves that when they pitch an idea, and it is not immediately the cover story for the magazine, will pitch a fit and feel like they are not being appreciated. Will neglect friends and boyfriends because she actually believes she will get a job at Flair if she works hard enough. Will ignore needs of friends because she thinks her internship is superior. Will automatically be given the job if she can manage to finagle her boyfriend to visiting her at work and he magically is offered a job as a model and then throws jealous fits when he talks to supermodels. Send resume and cover letter. No calls please.
And Jessica’s , um…”Internship”
World-famous fashion photgrapher Quenton Berg looking for an underage girl to be his personal slave. Must be willing to hatch a plan to seduce him in order for him to make her a model. Must endure humiliating tasks and put up with a supermodel’s bitchy antics. Preferred qualifications: must flaunt their goods with a poor lowly mailroom clerk in order to create love triangle. Will stop at nothing to be noticed as a supermodel.
I wasn’t too thrilled about this one at first because quite frankly the cover makes me want to punch someone in the face. The Daniel twins always looked like 35 year old porn stars to me. Also, what does it have to do with anything? Liz is also wearing a three-year old’s bathing suit. Although it does remind me of when sunflower patterns were all the rage. I maaaayyyy have had a sunflower babydoll dress that I maaaayyy have worn with bike pants and Doc Martens.
But seriously! How do they come up with this stuff! Of course, even at Flair magazine, everyone clamors over the twins despite being two-week only high school interns. It’s like the Hills, where they are magically handed glamorous jobs and talk about absolutely nothing but themselves. And what happened to Ingenue magazine? At least Flair mag is actually in LA.
And isn’t it just like SV for someone to be discovered as a model in two seconds flat? And Todd totally gets to march around in a skimpy Speedo, and Liz is kind of disgusted. And apparently sexual harassment is on the menu at Flair. While Jessica is napping, the mail room guy makes out with her. And Jessica shuts herself in the darkroom with Quentin and makes out with him so he won’t know who it is.
However innocuous, this quote really cracked me up. “As they walked to Todd’s car he chatted excitedly about the possibility of modeling for Quentin- studiously avoiding any mention of Simone, Elizabeth noticed. She had never seen Todd look so happy and alive. And she never felt so rotten.” O rly Liz? Being jealous of Todd working with a supermodel makes you feel the most rotten ever? Even more than when you were kidnapped and almost raped? And when you were held at gunpoint several times? Or attacked by a werewolf? Or when you got drunk and killed your sister’s boyfriend and was on trial for murder? Yea. those don’t even compare.
Raise your hand if you are soooo over Todd and Liz cheating on each other and/or getting jealous and/or fighting in every g-damn book.