Feliz Cumpleanos Clint Peterson!

Sorry for the lack of postings this week. When I launched this epic blog, I really didn't intend on this stagger in consistency. I just feel terrible about it. 

I even thought about throwing in the towel completely, but, I've been in Vegas...Aside from mere survival, I just cant seem to focus on anything else while I'm out there. After consulting some encouraging friends, I realize I am not alone, and have now found the willpower to survive and move forward. You see, today is a very important day in the world: February 21st and the 30 year anniversary that my great amigo, and huge ball of talent, Clint Peterson was born. 

Clint is a super guy and one of my all-time favorite people. We are having a big ol' shin-dig for him tonight and if you're around you should come.

There will be booze and drinks and I think some art too, because something on the flyer mentioned opening reception and Clint is into that sort of thing.

Anyway, Happy Dirty 30 Clint! You rule the school.

A Norwegian, An American And A Swede Walk Into A Bar...

This is a beautiful late-night to mid-morning portrait of my blacked out former boss giving the steal blue with 2 naked, fun-loving vikings, after a night of true debauchery, a couple of years ago in Sweden. Looking at it just warms my heart.

I'm headed to Las Vegas tomorrow for some work, so I must have naturally gravitated towards these memories as part of some sort of sub-conscious preparation for the coming days. 

Anyway, even though I'm talking about Vegas and drunken Swedes, it's President's Day, here in the US of A, so this posting is actually dedicated to Mt. Rushmore, and the great state of South Dakota. 

I know first hand that there's plenty of drunks there too, so I don't feel bad posting these photos from Sweden at all.

For now, enjoy these photos of Stockholm's favorite fat white dude, Jonas, baptizing his sins away moments before the above photo came to life.

Happy Presidents Day!

Easy On The Fillings.

Shot To Shit. xo

Hello and welcome to Valentine's Day. 

Meh...

I'm sure it's only  because the flowers/custom jewelry/fragrance/fine chocolate/and other thoughtful and loving gifts I am meant to receive haven't arrived yet, but I'm feeling a bit hungover, uninspired, SLOW MOVING, this morning.

What the, eff?

Normally on Valentines Day, I wake up with a burst of energy, lounge in a warm bath of rose petals and essential oils, have a massage, get my hair and makeup done by Amyface, and spend the rest of the day bossing people around in lingerie, from a bearskin rug, where I open love letters and unexpected gifts from people still in love with me after all these years, and they just keep arriving and arriving...

but today...

I dunno? I feel mellow.

Anyway.

What I like about Valentine's Day is that men spend an average of twice as much as women, and, according to the National Greeting Card Association, (totally joining!), Valentine's Day is the most card sendingest holiday behind Christmas. 

Funny since History.com says, "Valentines Day- and it's patron saint (I am totally suffering from another Patron this morning, by the way. Mine's more a spirit then a saint, however)- is shrouded in mystery." 

"Shrouded in mystery"?

Um? Isn't that just historical speak for, "Wemadedisshitupbitcheswehavebeendoingitforeverandwearestilldoingitnow"?

Whatever though. 

I'm fine with lies and proaganda makes the world go around, so I'm backing it. 

Do something nice and/or loving and/or thoughtful and/or sexy for those you love today. 

And, from me to you, enjoy these delightful Valentine's Day ass shots, from my friends kitchen in Chicago a few years ago.

I LOVE them so much I could marry them.

What now, Paraskavedekatriaphobia?!

Day 3 and already tardy posting. 

Shit. 

I know it's mid-day, but it's Friday the 13th, so my paraskavedekatriaphobia has totally been kicking in. 

I had to make sure I posted these photos of Bigfoot, in San Francisco, a few years back at just the right time.

I've been doing a bit research on Friday the 13th, but so far all I can find is a bunch of lame-O stuff. 

Basically, what it comes down to is that nobody ever liked Friday (obviously this superstition pre-dates the modern desk job), and nobody ever trusted the number 13. Put the two together and everybody freaks the eff out. 

Scandinavians apparently referred to this as the "Witches" Sabbath, because every Friday 12 witches would gather with the devil! Obviously we can all now see why this superstition is relevant today.

According to some place called the Stress Management Center and Phobia Institute, "an estimated  17- 21 million people are are affected by their fear of this day." They go on to say that because of this we loose about $800-$900 million. 

WTF?! 

Those people need to take a deep breath and get it the fuck together. They need to get all Victor Miller and start making lemonade from lemons. His ass made like a bazillion dollars by embracing Friday the 13th!  

My next post is going to have to be something that reminds me of patience and being non-judgmental, because that statistic annoys me so much.

For now enjoy these pics of devil loving (or at least curious) Bigfoot. 

Feliz Cumpleanos, Chuck D!

So, apparently today is the two-hundred year birthday of Charles Darwin. Talk about a dude that shook some shit up.  

I heard on NPR this morning that some religious types refer to this day as "The End of The Age of God." Dayum. 

I thought I was feeling particularly blasphemous when I woke up today, and now I know why! 

I read on Wikipedia that, "Scientists and academics sometimes celebrate Feb, 12th with "Phylum Feast" events- a meal with foods from as many different phyla as they could manage." I have no idea what Phylum is, but my friend Racheal is coming over for dinner and that is totally what we are eating! Happy Birthday, Chuck! Thanks for being a smart guy and keeping it real!

For now, here's a few more Darwinesque photos, that don't exactly scream evolution but somehow just feel right:

 

Go Number 2!! A perfect, double the fun posting, with your hosts, Tigra and Apollonia 6!

Whelp, day 2 of what is obviously destined to be the most amazing blog ever and already a second post! I'm kind of amazed.

This photo is actually one of my favorites. I look at it and I feel happy. The other day I looked at it and I made some Kumkwat Marmalade. Then I labeled the marmalade with this photo and I gave it to Craig Wetherby, so I herby dedicate this posting to him. I know he will be proud.

Anyway, It's easy to be distracted by the amount of boob here, but it's much more epic than that alone. 

On the left, that's the one and only Lady Tigra, love of my life, totally all-time, best person ever. On the right, that's the legendary Apollonia! 

Um? Apollonia, is like 50! She still doesn't look as good as my Great Aunt Betty, (ageless class of that level cannot be emulated), but I like her still. Seeing her all sexed up reminds me of that poem from back in the day, "When I'm Old I Shall Wear Purple".

This is how I remember Apollonia:

 

To be honest I like her even better now that it's like 20 years later and she still looks like my gay best friend's spicy sex deity.

Apollonia replaced Vanity after she left Prince's crew, (even though everyone knows you could never replace Vanity).  She also went on to do a bunch of other sexy pop stuff, including make a few records and cover Manic Monday.

To make things extra super, Apollonia was totally in love with Tigra and kept trying to make out with her. I think she was overcome by Tigra's au naturalness, and therefor totally love struck. Which, if you ever get the chance to meet/know Tigra you will understand.

Somebody Has To Go First...

 

This blog is where I will be sorting through a rather deep collection of Poloroids and since I just so happened to find this pic of photog Angela Boatwright the other day, and because she rules, she is totally going first. Hope she doesn't mind. 

She didn't seem to mind too much when I took this photo of her on a plane sometime last year, so Im going to roll the dice...

Regardless, I know in my heart it is only appropriate that today, for this day, I dedicate my life to her. Viva La Boatwright!

The life dedication is only for the day, but this blog posting will last FOR EVER, plus... who knows what would happen with a day of complete Boaterisims? Third dimensions of rock and roll? Barely legal, dirt bag, muses, with porcelain skin and eye darkening angst? Could be life-changing...

Anyway, the point is that today is now officially (yes, by the powers of the universe), National Angela Boatwright Ruler Of The Universe Day, and this means I'd better get to fucking rocking. 

Seriously, she is such a soul stealing, good photographer, I am starting to get nervous just devirginizing my dirty low-brow blog with her classy name.

Daily Affirmation: Today I will multi-task with the rhythm of some amazing metal band. I already know its going to be amazing.