We ask a sexy babe what pisses her off. Today’s Ballbreaker: Miss Supercross Mercedes Terrell.
I was cursed with an extremely good sense of smell. I can smell old man breath from across a room. You know what old man breath is…it’s that stale old coffee smell mixed with tooth decay and the rotten meat that’s been stuck between their teeth for a decade. Here is a hint folks: When you see someone physically leaning away from you when you’re having a conversation, take note, they are not stretching their neck or back. When someone you’re talking to reaches in their pocket and offers you a piece of gum, take it! Learn your lesson and never leave the house without a pack of mints – nobody wants to smell what you had for lunch last week.
Seriously, people, what is wrong with you? Are you really so addicted to gambling that you have to bring your child to the casino where the air is filled with smoke, the slot machines are loud and obnoxious, there are drunk people pinballing off every hallway wall, and people are engaging in borderline illegal activities? On top of all this, you’ve got hookers leaning in to tickle your baby’s chin – if the little guy breaks out the next day, I’m sorry to have to tell you it’s not chicken pox. Get a sitter!
Ripe Race Fans
I’ve been modeling for over 6 years now and touring with Monster Energy Supercross for the past year as Miss Supercross. Supercross is a fast-growing sport, a dirt motorcycle race held in the largest professional football and baseball stadiums. Fans tailgate in the parking lot, and the beer is always flowing; as you can imagine, this often gives some of the more “outgoing” male fans the courage to take off their shirts. Now I don’t understand the urge to show off a beer gut and sorry prison tattoos, and I wouldn’t care except that inevitably these usually heavily intoxicated, less than showered, extremely sweaty men ask to take a picture with me. I can’t say no. Remember, I have an extremely good sense of smell, so my stomach churns as the body odor hits me. In the interest of me not puking on you (and I’ve had some close calls), can I set a few rules?:
1) Shower. Yes, take a shower the day of the event. And then shower again, just to be sure you don’t still smell like a turd.
2) Pics before Pints. If you’re going to get drunk, can you please get all the picture taking out of the way beforehand? This will spare the poor models having to endure your dragon breath.
3) Keep Your Shirt On, Fabio. No one wants to see your gut and lame tattoos. You won’t even want to see them – in the sober light of the next day, when you look through your pictures from the event, you’ll be glad you kept your shirt on. Particularly if your boobs are bigger than mine, which is sometimes the case.
No matter how hot a chick might be, it kills it when you look down at her feet and she’s wearing a sweet pair of clear plastic stripper heels with her gangly toes hanging over the edge and gripping onto the front of the shoe. I call it the Dragon Claw. Please ladies buy shoes that fit you and work with what you’ve got. If you’re cursed with a hideous set of toes then for the love of God please only wear closed-toe shoes. You’re not only making yourself look bad – think of the poor sandal!