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Either that or she is enjoying some time on a trampoline. I know that I always wear pink chiffon when using a trampoline. I like to feel the wind beneath my wings, if you know what I mean. She certainly does. Weeeee! Breezy…

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Someone’s mom didn’t teach her the always-effective “bunny goes around the tree” method of shoelace tying. I find that depressing. But maybe there’s a different method for shoelaces that originate from the heel of the shoe. I wouldn’t know; I don’t any shoes that…stylish.

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I’m sure I speak for most people when I say that I might look forward to my annual physical more if my supermodel doctor stripped down while I remained fully clothed. Especially during the “turn and cough” portion of the exam. And to be able to smoke a cigar and drink a beer during the ordeal? This is starting to sound heavenly.

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Either he’s been a very naughty boy or his special birthday wish has finally come true. We’ll hope, for his sake, it’s the latter. Either way, I don’t see any scars or bruising, so I’m going to assume this story features a…uh…happy ending.

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Do you remember when you were young and one of your bad-influence friends peer-pressured you into smoking a cigarette? Then your mom caught you, and, to teach you a lesson, she forced you to smoke the whole pack? I imagine that this model experienced similar punishment, only her mother, a chain smoker, was viciously anti-cereal. She had to eat every box and bag her mother could find until she was so sick she lost even the desire to dress herself. Thankfully, she was provided with a giant spoon…otherwise the process would have lasted 10 times longer.

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What we’re seeing here, I’m guessing, is the girl-on-girl porn version of Bambi, which apparently focuses on the scene where Bambi’s mother is shot by a hunter (I admit that it is the most erotic scene in the film, save any part featuring Thumper). Now, I know what you’re saying: Bambi’s mother, a doe, didn’t have antlers. Well, in the spirit of true art, I know you’ll allow the filmmakers that one concession.

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If you’re going to try and seduce me on the kitchen counter, at least brush the spilt Captain Crunch morsels off, first. And buy some new tights, woman. They aren’t that expensive. In fact, I’ll buy them for you. Put your coat on; I’m taking you to Macy’s. Missing the point? No, you’re missing the point! There are rules about these sorts of things. I would know because I wrote them. Let’s go!

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Looks like someone didn’t properly stock up on oxygen before locking herself in Verne Troyer’s minimalist dining room. You see, the trick is to just take a really, really deep breath before you go in. Most people forget that. Ah, well. Another one gone. Let’s see how much we can get for her shoes.

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As you walk by, feel free to offer the hobo model any loose change you may have jangling about in your pockets. But don’t give her anything more than a $1 bill. She doesn’t need it, obviously, as she can afford two pairs of sunglasses. I can’t even afford one pair. Then again, I’m not willing to flash the section of skin between my stomach and boobs—men just love it!!!—for spare change.

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A sad fact of life: Models get wedgies, too. And if you’ve ever been caught digging your underwear out of your butt crack and thought, “I couldn’t be more embarrassed!,” then imagine how bad the model above must feel after having his wardrobe malfunction broadcast in permanent color print! Sure, it’s kind of his fault for wearing what look to be ladies underthings. But that shouldn’t stop you from donating generously to your local Models Against Wedgies organization today.