(photo courtesy TMZ)I think I just found the cover photograph for Nadya Suleman's eagerly-anticipated-by-losers upcoming book.
Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ that is a distended abdomen. Where is all that skin going to go? Can she donate it to a burn unit somewhere? Would they even want it? Who wants somebody else's stretch marks on their face? Or is that already already some kind of fetish among people with whom I would never willingly associate?
I shudder at the thought, but it would not surprise me, not in this world.
If she is unable to find a capable plastic surgeon in Southern California, once her literary career crashes and burns, Nadya at least has a future in the potentially-lucrative stretch-mark-fetish market on Craigslist. Or the one in Africa.
That should put at least one of her fourteen kids through community college.
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