Do you like how I’m squeezing my boobies in and taking the shot from below a bit to make myself look hunky? To quote Silence of the Lambs:

I’d do me!

I fucking mean it! I will come to your house and fuck up your day so bad if you people continue to use that word for any reason. EVEN IF WHAT YOU ARE DESCRIBING IS REPRESENTATIONAL OF A DEITY!

I think you mean to say “supreme” or “ultimate” or “pretty keen!” not iconic.

It’s driving me fucking nuts. STOP right NOW!

I’m seriously considering onboard laundry.

In fact, I need to call Porter to see exactly how much I can bring without incurring extra charges. I suspect I started this venture a week too early. Expect next week to be individual shots of underwear. Meh. I can pad this out for another seven days. Just watch.

Last night my husband broke the no-spending rule and got me District 9 on Blue Ray. Bless. Oddly enough the second time around I was on the edge of my seat at the end, moreso than at the theatre. I’m looking forward to his next movie, whatever that is. I loved the non-cammo design of the weapons and the particular nod to Half Life games with the null-gravity guns.

SharkBoy has booked the second hotel and the car to the pier. I’m all googleygoo!

I am FiERCE

Via Just a Dude

My dear friends we have only one week left. What shall you do in my absence?

I was going to turn on RoboBlogger but the last time I did that you people hated his “In Your Face” attitude and rock and roll attitude. I may leave Shelly in charge so she’ll just rant about movies. That might not be too bad. Whatever I choose, though, dear reader, rest assured I will not leave you alone while I sip fruity drinks and take clandestine pictures of fat people.

Well, actually… biggie. She wasn’t fat but she wasn’t rail thin, either. Her size lent to the fact that her low cut, scoop neck top created the illusion of so much cleavage that I, for some reason, could not stop looking down there. I don’t consider myself misogynistic and as a gay man, I respect women and their fashion sense. But I could not stop looking at her fuckin rack, man!

Seriously, for whatever reason, I found it difficult to keep my eyes above the chin.

The lighting where we were created a Q-tip like shadow of cleavage, meaning: there was a bulbous shadow at the top of the straight line shadow that lead up from the scoop top. Peripherally I could see the oval darkness dead center of her pale chest (which I assume is why it was so distracting).

After struggling with not looking I suddenly got the urge to drop my pen in her cleavage. No lie. I wanted to toss my pen in there and listen for rattling or echos or a guttural burp from a Sarlacc.

For some reason this played in my head:

To be honest I didn’t break in or buy this shirt. It was given to me by an ex-boyfriend of my father’s best friend who died a couple years back. I do miss his energy. I think of him every time I wear one of his shirts (I got about 10 of them!) and I like to think some of his gregarious energy washes off onto me. If ever I get scared of the future or my career or any stupid things like that, I think of him and how he survived a botched jewel theft, heart surgery and multiple career shifts and think that if he could do it so effortlessly, I can too. He really was an inspiration and a model of success due to hard work and determination.

(Via GayGamer)

A few months ago I got a call from an agent with a concern for an ad I had just created and sent out over the email database. It was an ad displaying our tours to the Middle East – I used an image of the Hassan II Mosque in Casablanca, largest mosque in Morocco, third largest in the world:

“You used a mosque in your ad…”

“Yes,” I say.

“I think some agents might take offense using a religious building in an ad.”

I sigh a little, die a little inside and say thank you, I will take that into consideration. Click goes the phone.

Today a manager wanted me to create a press release for a new hire with expressed desire to use a picture of the new guy on an elephant during his trip to Africa. Thing is, the elephant was in a state of full rigidity. That is to say, the pachyderm had a 5th leg. The new guy, oblivious to the arousal of his ride, is smiling like it’s Disney World.

“I can’t use this picture!” I say to the manager.

“Why? Everyone knows elephants have penises!” She was 90% serious. I think. “Come on! Elephants don’t have a fly and pants to zip up into. People should be use to that stuff.” Nope. She was 100% serious.

“They have trunks,” I offer. Ba-dam damp.*

So to recap usable marketing materials: The world’s third largest mosque = not acceptable, a honking large elephant cock = Sure thing!

*I cropped the picture to show only the new guy and the big smiling head of the elephant.

Today in a 4 hour long meeting, as three managers battled over the necessity of whether or not two web form elements needed to be “mandatory” or not, I didn’t get frustrated or angry at all. No. Not one iota. Instead I went to my happy place: I thought about the second day on the ship where I plan to just wander, take goofy pictures and eat stuff that doesn’t move. I thought about the Friday night before the trip where I repack this mess (yes, I will have to figure out where that helmet is going) as SharkBoy and I put on a concert DVD of our choice. The concert DVD is pretty much a welcome tradition now that I look forward to. I think this time will be Pet Shop Boys in South America. But things can change…

El Yawn-o.

I know. I shouldn’t pay this homophobe any attention other to mock him with signs that say “I Have a Sign!”, but I got caught up in the hype and thought I should read one from him, if just to figure out what makes him so controversial. I can assure you, after gnawing through that forward alone, I’ll never bother again. No the book wasn’t that shocking – maybe it was in the 70’s, like a meddling John Hughes film, but it doesn’t stand the test of time in a post 9-11, liberty eroded society. What actually made me think this man a dork was his comments about same sex marriage, utter flabbergasting and so tired (open the link, read the first paragraph and die a little inside. That’s all you need.).

Take heart in knowing there are people out there who can make light of the whole “Should an avid gay gamer buy an amazingly developed game that puts money into a homophobe’s pocket?” conundrum. HAWP’s “Ash” has impeccable comic timing. I wish she was my best friend.

Video Via GayGamer

Unfortunately the rules changed and since then they only use chin to top of head cropping so not much is showing in new photos. The shirt, however is one of my faves since it’s achieved this level of soft worn comfort that takes years to get to. C’est la vie