Week after week, the Profiles keep coming, so if you believe in karma you must have seriously fucked up in a past life. Don’t blame us.
This week we have Chichimecacihuatzin, which we’re fairly certain is just a stage name, since she is an interpretive pole dancer; her version of Waiting for Godot apparently has the gentlemen throwing down the green with the same delight as an Uno Draw Four card. Chichimecacihuatzin does not have “daddy issues” or problems with self-esteem but is happy with her career choice, being one of the few high-schoolers that followed the advice of her guidance counselor (who’s a regular on Thursday nights.) She finds her vocation rewarding and is proud of her skills, though we know for a fact that she goes in regularly for spray-stippling, and those are probably not the lips she was born with. True enough, she has to deal with creeps who can’t understand that her Billy Pilgrim is allegorical, but then again many of us have the same problem at work and we don’t have the benefit of a bouncer. Chichimecacihuatzin knows she won’t be able to do this forever and already has her backup plan all worked out: by her third molt, she intends to have completed her Masters in Theoretical Geneology and can begin consulting. As a hobby, she goes into the comments for music videos on YouTube and tries to make listening to a song sound like some life-affirming thing. Her favorite unidentified item from the bathroom drawer is that thing with the rubber bristles and some kind of hook.
There’s always a chance that we’ll have a stroke or something and this won’t be here next week, so you’ll check back in the vain hope, and we’re always happy to exploit that.