Here’s a little secret about me: I hate to have my picture taken. Really, I do. I know that’s hard to believe, due to the huge amount of photos that I post of myself on this blog and on my Facebook page. But believe me, it’s true.
Here’s another little secret about me: I love to have my photo taken. Really, I do. I know that’s hard to believe, due to the fact that I just told you right up there ^^^^ that I hate to have my picture taken. But believe me, it’s true.
Confused yet? Well, it goes like this: I hate to have my photo taken when it’s for anything serious. Or normal. Or regular. But I love to have my photo taken when I am acting like a dork. Or wearing something stupid. Or doing something totally weird and/or inappropriate.
If you ever need a volunteer to do something ridiculous and/or embarrassing for a photo, I’m your girl.
There is something wrong (or maybe right?) with my brain, which makes me constantly scan my surroundings for photo ops. If you can climb it, hump it, be humped by it, dangle from it, kiss it, lie on it, ride it, or hug it, I am so totally in that it’s not even funny.
|This is me in L.A. when I asked the driver of our Hollywood Star Homes Tour if I could hop off the bus and hump this statue that was in someone’s fancy Beverly Hills yard. Obviously the driver/tour guide was down with it.
This addiction really gets put to the test during the holiday season.
Starting at Halloween, and continuing all through Christmas, everyone is covering their lawns with things that blow up, light up, make noise, move, and just BEG for my photographic attacks. It’s especially hard to resist those giant inflatable things that everyone has in their yards. They are everywhere in my neighborhood, and it’s honestly stressful for me to see them every day and not totally molest them for sport.
Last Saturday night, my friends and family and I did a Mobile Xmas Carol Assualt of our neighborhood. We took donations for Toys for Tots in exchange for giving the gift of song and dance. We had a big light up trailer/hayride situation that pulled us ’round the ‘hood while we shared our angelic voices with our lucky neighbors. During that tour of our neighborhood, I saw at least a hundred holiday decorations that I wanted to hump, but since there were children on board the assault vehicle, I had to refrain. It was difficult. I mean, seriously difficult. It was like dangling a bottle of Jack in front of an alcoholic. I’m not gonna lie to you guys… I still get the shakes when I think about it. At one point we slowly drove past a house with a giant inflatable dog in the yard, that just so happened to be in the perfect position for me to give it the business from behind. Even my friend Kris mentioned that it was truly made for me and my mad mad surprise buttsecksing skillz. But alas, I had to turn away, tear in my eye, and say “I’m being strong for the children. I must behave myself and set an example for the children.”
Being appropriate really sucks, you guys. It is totally not my forte, but I’ve proven that I can do it when I have to. I am nothing if not amazingly thoughtful, mature, responsible, and a superior role model.
But my point here is this: ‘Tis the season for doing inappropriate things with holiday decorations, and I want YOU GUYS to get in on this action. I would like you to molest some inflatable yard decor, Santa statues, light up reindeer, whatever you can find, and send me the photos. Be creative. Be unique. Be funny. I will accept photos until January 1st and I will announce a winner a few days later. The winner will get some totally ridiculous crap from my Zazzle store, as well as the public humiliation of having their photo posted on my blog and Facebook page, as well as bragging rights about how you won a contest because you are the #1 Holiday Decoration Molester. In the whole wide (Insane in the Mom-Brain) world.
I got a little funky in my neighborhood yesterday afternoon, and I hope it will inspire you to trespass and inappropriately pose on a stranger’s cherished holiday paraphernalia.
‘Tis the season.
***Send photos to me at firstname.lastname@example.org***