Model Prisoner

Serving time in a dorm full of bratty beauties

ROOM & BOARD: Phil Oh gets
co-author/model Amanda Kerlin to
spill her secrets.

By PHIL OH

AFTER returning home from a holiday weekend in Detroit to a urine-stained bed, I knew that I had to get the hell out of the model dorm.

I already knew the source of the yellow spot. It wasn't, as I had first suspected, splashes from my roommate Gabriela's Metamucil martini (a concoction of orange Metamucil and Svedka vodka that the models consumed to feed both their need for booze and their urge to purge).

Instead, it was our poor dog, which I found huddled in the closet. Sweet Jesus! When was the last time the girls had taken the helpless little pup out?

I confronted my gorgeous roommates.

The Russian girl protested that it had been too cold to walk the dog, but I knew it was nothing compared to the Moscow winters she grew up with. Besides, she had just received a fur coat from one of her Mafia boyfriends.

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