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I've said it before and I'll say it again: I don't deserve Hugh Jackman. I fucked up bad the other night and what does he do? Buys us an amazing house in the desert, outside the city limits. It's the most perfect home for us, I couldn't have designed it any better myself. It has spare rooms for us to set up our studios in, it has a beautiful pool, and a huge courtyard for Brando to play in. I'll make him post pictures later because I know he took some.
Thanks to everyone who's dropped by the gallery so far. I hope you're enjoying what you bought. I'm about to put up like twelve new pieces this weekend, so I'm excited about that. Everything is going so well I can't believe it; it really does feel like I'll wake up any minute and realize this has all been a dream.
Apparently the gallery and I have some kind of exclusive in a Las Vegas magazine and Hugh has to take pictures of the gallery and some of me too. I don't want to model anymore, if I did I wouldn't have quit to begin with, but I'm sure he'll be able to talk me into it.
Brando keeps bringing his toy over to me so I better go out to the courtyard with him and play for a bit before I head to the gallery for the evening. Harper, I need to talk to you, by the way. Call me! Or I'll drop by your shop sometime soon.
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