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Casey Ringer
A little about me, huh? Okay, why not?
Hmmm, let me see...
Taps lip.
Taps lip.
Well,
I worked for one of the largest tabloids in the world -- THE SCOOP (name changed for obvious reasons).
At ...voir plusA little about me, huh? Okay, why not?
Hmmm, let me see...
Taps lip.
Taps lip.
Well,
I worked for one of the largest tabloids in the world -- THE SCOOP (name changed for obvious reasons).
At twenty-two, I started as a copywriter and quickly worked my way up. After about two years of nursing out petty crimes and digging dirt on B-list celebrities, I was promoted because I guess I could hold my own against the grab-assing corporate guys.
It was grueling. Always painted, hair done, and nails french-tipped.
But the pay was great and I made some close contacts with a few powerful people over the years. And after those years, I somehow weaseled my way into a share of the company before it went public and moved out West. Naturally, I gladly accepted my shares and moved with them.
But, shortly after we moved into a plaza suite off Sunset and LaBrea (with an espresso-machine and marbled leg chairs in the lobby), I got pregnant.
Prego.
Full-up.
Was with child.
I only got to swipe my corporate card twice — and once was for a Bally's membership I never used — before I had to sell my shares and play mommy. But sell my shares, I did. I made out with enough to buy a house in Hollywood Hills (in cash) twelve years of primo education (for my ingrate son) and enough spending money to coast 'til, well, now.
I still do freelance work from time-to-time.
Oh, and -- DUH!!!! -- I write books.
But you knew that ;)voir moins