Why It’s Dangerous to Mix Wine, Cameras, and Great Clothes!

Word to the wise – this is why it is dangerous to mix wine and a trip down memory lane to the days of dressing up with your gal pals – at least it is when you associate with dangerous camera stalkers like Lola May!!!!  Oh and Jenni – don’t think you are getting away scott free – your wardrobe is partially to blame!

It start off innocently, just with a few profanities …

Fuck Yeah by Lola May.
… not quite sure what happened to my pants?
Sexy Emme by Lola May.
What girl wouldn’t try on a pair of boots like these!?!
ER boots by Lola May.
Only I had no idea, that Lola was lurking with the camera…..
ER dressing by Lola May.
Obviously, too much wine was being consumed…..
laughing Emme by Lola May.
Why else would a grown woman, like Lola, be parading around in a tutu?
Lola by Lola May.
Or Kittyn garb up in full on Princess attire?
girl secrets by Lola May.
Despite now having full on blackmail materials posted all over flickr by Lola May and the scandulous suggestions of orgasms and orgies on twitter by Miss Kittyn for all the world to see (clearly I am the innocent one in the group), I must say I can’t say I have spent a more hilarious evening of shananigans and debauchery in ages.  Well at least not since Tim left town or the olden days when the original Breakfast Included was alive and well. Have a nagging feeling that those weren’t the only photos Lola took though.  Guess I’ll have to stay tuned to her flickr, so that at the very least I know what I should be embarrassed about or guilty of.

I’m not a shallow person, but ….

I’d like to think I am not a shallow or superficial person, but I did see something on a man the other day that totally made me gag. Not with repulsion, but rather disbelief that any organism with half a brain would willingly do what he did to his body or to the woman he was with.

Now in my defense I did spend a forced three hours with the man and his wife before I noticed the unsightly condition.  It’s not that I am an unobservant individual, but I try not to look for flaws in peoples appearance and after the first two-minutes of their incessant bickering, I tried my best to pretend they weren’t actually there.

This was a little difficult, because the comments that kept coming out of their mouths wanted to make me bang my head against a wall.  I don’t fancy myself to be exceptionally brilliant, but more and more I am aghast at the st… – lets call it lack of worldliness – of an alarmingly large portion of society.  Kept hoping I was just having a moment of criticalness – she was after all reading the same book that I’d just finished.  These people weren’t really White T….. – that is such a horrid expression (and would like to think I wouldn’t use such a term, but admittedly it might have wandered through my head by hour two).

Deer in the headlights by T Hall.

Photo by Todd Hall

All hope was dashed when I caught a glimpse of his shoulder.  I felt like a deer trapped in oncoming headlights.  I was frozen in horror and just couldn’t pull my eyes away.  There on his shoulder was tattooed a portrait of him and his wife.  Now – admittedly I have never been one for tattoos – I figure I give myself enough accidentally, but this one was especially horrific – in size, imagined hours of pain and in image.  I had to sit on my hands to prevent myself from hitting him on the side of the head before shaking him senseless (although I am not sure that would be possible – perhaps it’s already been done) and yelling “What the HELL is wrong with you!!!!  How could you possibly think that any woman would find that unsightly thing flattering!!!”

The poor woman was actually a bit of a looker, but not on his arm she wasn’t.  Her likeness was hideous – masculine with a furry beard of his long dark hairs coming out all over the place.  Perhaps that’s what drove her to be such a nagging b….?

Hell – if a bloke I’m ever with decides that that would be the ultimate display of love or romantic gesture, then either shoot me or drop me off at the nearest convent, because clearly that would be the sign that I have very poor judgment in the men I date and really should be stopped cold turkey.

Emme

PS Never look up “ugly tattoos” on flickr.  The images and locations of some tattoos will likely now cause me months of nightmares and sleepless nights.  Also not sure that I am going to want to see a man with his pants off for awhile for fear that I might come across one of those images or just have a nasty flashback and start screaming.  On the other hand, checking out some of those photos could be a good form of birth control.