Like any Scallywag, I have a penchant for excess. I am a writer, I live alone in Soho, with no full-time job, and somehow, I live the life of a sultan. So of course, when invited to the Your Cut Off party, I assumed it was an elaborate plot to send me off to the show to do my pennants for living the good life.
I of course, breathed a sigh of relief when I realized I was actually there to cover it. Grabbing a drink from the open bar, I sat down to listen to tales of girls who weren’t so lucky.
By the way, in case you don’t know, Your Cut Off is a reality show by VH1 that takes girls away from their benefactors, gives them a life coach, and hopefully smacks some sense into them. Forced to live together in “spoiled rotten rehab”, they are taught to do simple tasks that make them appreciate what has been done for them. Upon completing their stint in “rehab” they are supposed to graduate a better person. But did they… ?
hmm. thanks. I obviously did not watch the show. I thought the title was informally indicating members of a group. Not to mention that is how the press release spelled it.
You’re*