Valentine Vixen -- Pamela Anderson, Miss February 1990

Very, very special Valentine Vixen. The lovely and talented, and in my book unendingly wonderful with so much more to her than the surface by which she is constantly judged, Pamela Anderson was Miss February 1990. Pammy was only 23 years old, she had just moved to Los Angeles after living most of her life in tiny Comox, B.C, Canada, and her interview will just about break your heart.

Photographed by Arny Freytag.

She was discovered by accident while being her gorgeous and naturally attention-grabbing self at a simple sporting event.Pamela took in a B.C. Lions football game in Vancouver and made a national spectacle of herself. Duded up in blue, the signature color of Labatt’s Beer, she caught the eye of a national-TV cameraman. Football fans all over Canada called the network to inquire about the sideline stunner at the Lions game. Next thing she knew, Pamela was a Labatt’s poster girl. (“B.C. Beauty.” Playboy, February 1990.)

To keep her wits about her, she kept a journal in which she recorded her experiences. “This is the beginning of a new life for me,” she wrote. She worked as a model and studied airline routes in her spare time. She got her certification as a travel agent, just in case her plans for an even bigger move didn’t work out. (Ibid.)

She kept up the journaling and also expanded to other writing, too. She used to be a regular contributor to Jane magazine back when I subscribed because I was, like, sooooo counterculture and didn’t need any typical beauty magazines (Jane is now owned by Glamour so in my face) to tell my oh-so-over-it ass how to catch boys and flutter my eyelashes, thank you very much, and Pam’s editorials cracked me up. She can be wickedly sarcastic, and turned most of her wit on herself, totally willing to mock the image but then turn around and reveal this sweet and sensitive side, too. Very cool.

She now studies scripts the way she once pored over airline schedules, and more than one casting director has told her she is sure to go far. This, though, is her first big break. (Ibid.)

“Hollywood people are dreamers. Always grabbing for something big. I’m a dreamer, too, so I guess I belong here.” (Ibid.)

Damn. “I’m a dreamer, too, so I guess I belong here.” Think about all the total shit she has been through, the complete Hollywood wringer that has spun her around and wrung her out again and again since she said that in 1990.

Dating abusive and disease-ridden scummy cads, overindulging in the sea of substances that surrounded her rock and roll lifestyle, getting out and keeping her kids clean, being lambasted left and right for her body, judged solely on her looks; having her every move under scrutiny and criticized constantly as if she is some empty-headed set of shellacked boobs and nothing more, when really she is this sensitive and hilarious writer with a huge soft spot for animals and abused children, it’s like — the crux of injustice. Man. Excuse me, I … I have some dust in my eye.

Pamela Anderson has been for many years a highly visible spokesperson for PETA, People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals. Yes, I know PETA is not perfect. No, I don’t need to hear about it, because, like I just said, I know. Many nonprofits run in to choppy waters when they are closely investigated and PETA, because its beneficiaries cannot speak for themselves, comes under close scrutiny and is found lacking very often in public forums. Got it. But can we at least agree that it is really cool that Pam Anderson took on the mantle of ambassador to animals years ago and has stuck with it through thick and thin, both in her career and her cup size? I think that is admirable and demonstrative of her sensitivity and persistence.

Bardot and Pammy. Many similarities. Strong, opinionated blonde sex symbols under whose famously nice racks beat determined hearts of gold.
Since two legendary blonde bombshells and all ’round inconic sex goddesses are better than one, Brigitte Bardot and Pamela Anderson have now united to call for an immediate end to the Canadian seal hunt. (“Pamela Anderson and Brigitte Bardot Unite: ‘Love Seals, Don’t Club Them!’” 13 Feb 2008. PETA2 Daily Blog.)

This afternoon while visiting the Brigitte Bardot Foundation in Paris, Pamela filled in for Mme Bardot (who is ill and can’t travel at the moment) and held a press conference publicly condeming the seal hunt and everyone who wears or designs fur. (Ibid.)

The seal hunt, which runs from November through May, really is fucking gross and awful. If you live in one of the five remaining geographical areas that still have it, I don’t want to tell you how to live your life, but holy hell, write a letter or something, would you? That shit is purely against God’s will, I’m almost positive. It’s got me all kinds of cussing in disgust over here.
The final quote from the interview with Playboy is really heartbreaking.

“I hope that when people see me in Playboy,” she says, “they’ll see more than the surface. I hope they’ll see a Comox girl reaching for a dream.” (“B.C. Beauty.”)

That is just exactly the way of it, you guys. So maybe the next time you are in a group of people and someone makes an allusion to Pamela analogizing her to trash or implying she is some blonde bimbo, perhaps you will remember that she is a sweet, poetic soul from a small town who has never meant anyone harm a day in her life, and you can step up like a gentleman hero and tell that hater to shut their ignorant piehole.

[Via http://thethoughtexperiment.wordpress.com]

Valentine Vixen -- Cherie Witter, Miss February 1985

The lovely and talented Cherie Witter was a seasoned model by the time she posed for Playboy as Miss February 1985, and I’m happy to report she was born in the same neck of the deep dark crick gypsy needleleaf rainforest as myself!

Photographed by Richard Fegley and Arny Freytag.
Modeling takes, as Cherie would say, “a major amount” of dedication. Especially in an area that’s somewhat off the beaten track for the fashion industry. The towns where Cherie grew up — Marysville, Everett, Edmonds, Bellevue — appear only on fairly detailed maps of the hilly farm and forest land, lakes and seashores surrounding Seattle. (“Cherie On Top,” Playboy, February 1985.)

Although it’s a picturesque area, it hasn’t been a center of fashion since the boom days of the Klondike gold rush. Of course, few people today wear miners’ boots. And with the gold all but played out, people in Seattle have been forced to build ships and planes, catch fish and harvest timber. (Ibid.)

Erm, that’s a fairly inaccurate depiction of the history of the Pacific Northwest (did they seriously leave out Lewis and Clark? and how on earth was any part of the Klondike Gold Rush to do with fashion? it was dudes in flannel and gumboots, my friend, and whores in eight layers of clothes against the cold — read Call of the Wild, dumbasses), but I’ll take it.

The rest of my family being born where our deep roots lay, in Northeastern Washington and the very far north woods of Idaho, makes me very smug and proprietary about the Puget Sound — I believe only my cousin Richie shares the coast of Washington as our birthplace, among the, like seventy of us cousins and our kids. Rich was born in Marysville and I was born in Bremerton.

I found a very dicey and suspicious fan tribute page to Ms. Witter on the myspace which looked too scammy for me to link to, but I found her legit facebook and will share only that she now lives in a really gorgeous town further up the Puget Sound called Mukilteo. I’ve been through it only once in my grown-up memory, but it’s beautiful country — a lot of the landscape cinematography and ferry scene stuff for the American film version of The Ring (Gore Verbinski, 2003) was shot around the area.

Knowing the proximity of Mukilteo to Bremerton, up in that there ol’ Sound, I decided to test Google’s ability to use the ferry system in its directions. The Sound consists of dozens and dozens of peninsulas and islands connected by a spotty system of bridges which span the “narrows” —our colloquial term for straits of water slim enough across so you can see one another’s buildings but deep and riptidey enough that if you drove you’d sink and if you swum you’d drown— but it’s often quicker to shoot around on the reasonably efficient ferry transit system.

Also, you can see orca whales. I’m not kidding. It’s amazing. They come right around either side of the boat in good-sized pods and circle and flip and do all kinds of shit. They are kind of show-offs. They scared the heck out of me when I was a kid because of their teeth, though.

So I typed in a query for directions from Mukilteo to Bremerton in Google and … FAIL. Google maps and driving directions, on the first shot out of the gate, told me to drive a crazy-stupid-lengthy route around I-5S to 16-W, the lonnnng way, from Mukilteo to Bremerton. This is extra stupid, because anyone who lives in the area will tell you Mukilteo is a pretty popular transport hub for the ferries.

If Ms. Witter weren’t so beautiful, this would hecka just look like one of those cheap Glamourshots from the mall, yes?

But I will give the site credit for eventually recommending the way I would’ve instinctively gone, which is to drive down to Lynnwood and Edmonds, take the Kingston-Edmonds ferry, get to the Kitsap Peninsula, then drive 104 to 3 into Bremerton. Duh. (Sarcasm.) Look, I don’t get to be “smarter” than google very often, so give me my moment! Speaking of smart, Ms. Witter had this to say about people’s perceptions of her intelligence based on her looks, an important lesson in not judging, no matter whether the subject of your judgment is, in your estimation “a dork,” or a beautiful idiot:

Oh my saltines, so dang adorable.
“I feel as if, at times in my life, I’ve been fighting what I have on the outside. I feel that, when people meet me, I don’t really have a chance to let them know what I’m about, or to prove that I’m worth knowning. And I don’t like having to prove that to people.
“But a lot of people who meet me are surprised. And they tell me they’re surprised; that’s what’s funny about it — they’re honest. They say, ‘I’m surprised, really surprised that you have not only your looks but you have something upstairs too.’ I like that.” (Ibid.)

What? She has a slicker on. Get off her back. Totally de rigeur apple picking attire. Perfectly normal.

In one of those great little coincidences that somehow abound in the small world of Playboy (the more you investigate the playmates, the more fun connections pop up), here’s a brief cross-pollenation note about the cover of Ms. Witter’s centerfold issue:

Also, please note the interview with then-29-year-old Steve Jobs. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: “the articles are interesting” is more than just a timeworn excuse for ogling titties.

The brain-asplodin’ly cute model posing in the chaps and spurs is the lovely and talented Julie Michelle McCullough, who appeared in the “Girls of Texas” spread in this issue of Playboy and returned a year later to headline her own spread as Miss February 1986. And guess who was on her cover that February issue one year later?

(you have already seen this picture but I’m posting it again for comparison’s sake)

Cherie Witter! I guess they have each other “covered”? Cherry pop tarts, I sure hope for all our sakes that’s the worst pun I make today. But no promises. Anyway, how about that? Pretty great. Stand-up comic and good-time gal Julie is one of my all time faves, so here’s another link to the feisty “funny bunny,” who, just like Ms. Witter and so many of the great playmates I’ve gotten to highlight this month, is walking and talking proof that beauty and brains aren’t mutually exclusive.

[Via http://thethoughtexperiment.wordpress.com]

Night Crawlers

[Via http://scriptical.wordpress.com]

Let's All Get Naked

Looking for the truth

So that’s my Aura

yea it feels kida like being naked

a little look at my soul

not what to expect to be honest

my favorite color is green

and i like purple and blue

and i don’t like pink

anyhow i think it’s nice

i am proud

+

I believe in the future

but i think we’re getting there in the wrong way

we don’t know where we came from and we’re not even intered in knowing

even a salmon knows where it comes from

-

i am usually a happy possitive person

my blog represents me as so negative

my computer makes me negative

schedules make me neagative

lies make me neagative

politics make me negative

and most og all applicatons make me negative

Lie about yourself as much as you can get ayway with

and maybe you’ll hear from us

we don’t want to know what we’re like

we want to know what you’ll done

and haven’t done

how about a picture of my aura

that would say a lot more

=

well fuck that

let’s all be happy and naked as much as possible

[Via http://savannafuckett.wordpress.com]

Brüno-hidden meaning?

We have all seen Sacha act out in crazy ways through his old TV show and in the movie Borat. However, the movie Bruno really topped the charts for me. I sat through the entire movie with a shocked look strewn across my face. Yes, his outrageous antics made me laugh and even blush with embarrassment (for him) but this was not the reason I was shocked.

If you notice, between the crazy skits and the seemingly skin-deep satire, there are actually a lot of hidden meanings to the movie. First off, I noticed Sasha acted the way he did in order to get strangers to fess up. Through shear comedy he managed to get a lady; a mother, to admit that she would let her baby be photographed on a crucifix and would even have her child undergo liposuction to lose 10 pounds.

(click play and follow link)

“Congratulations, how do you feel?” I love it.

Sasha also exposed the reality of gay rights and lack-thereof by attempting to turn strait. He does multiple things to do so like joining the military, interviewing an anti gay preacher, having a camping trip with rednecks, and attending a swinger’s party.

(I love how he salute’s him, god that’s funny)

I have to say though the ending of the movie is the best, him and his new boyfriend end up in a cage-match fight in front of hundreds of anti gay rednecks. I won’t spoil that one for you though. Sasha approaches many other things as well such as global warming, world hunger, the war, and really ditzy models.

Just like Weird Al, most people burned him for being different and trying to take on issues with comedy. IE “whatever you like spoof” Where he broaches the economic crisis. Sacha does the same thing by putting himself at risk of degradation and humiliation. Yea sometimes it seems that he goes to far, but isn’t that the way of shock art? It’s sad that people have to go to such great lengths to make a point these days but I have to give kudos for those who do.

[Via http://sugako.wordpress.com]

The rules of being an art model

As much as I prefer not to play by the rules, I know that they are necessary. Without rules, there is chaos. It will be anarchy and that won’t be good for anybody.

We do not have an art model union at FSU. There is no handbook. But there is an understanding that you must respect the person who is getting paid to shed their clothes for the sake of fine art and higher education. Seems pretty simple to me. Most of the students I encounter get it, too. Anyone who has had Carrie Ann Baade for figure drawing or painting totally gets it because Carrie spent many years as an art model and she is our best supporter. (She also makes her students keep their chemicals covered so that we don’t have to inhale dangerous fumes for hours on end. Like her, I am pretty sensitive and intolerant of bad smells. Put a lid on it!)

Of course, you know something must have happened to prompt me to write about the rules. Yesterday was one of those marathon modeling days for me. First, I had a figure drawing class, then I had Mark Messersmith’s extra-long painting class. (That’s 7 ½ hours for those of you who are counting.) I’ve made it harder for myself because of the challenging pose I chose for the latter class. I think I mentioned in my last post that I wanted to do a pose that would have the majority of the students focusing on my back. Backs are sexy. They have a lot of muscles and contours. And I’m obsessed with my back dimples. I also thought that there are enough painting of my BOOBS for now. Yes, I said BOOBS because everyone paints them so much larger than they appear in reality. It’s like they are obsessed with breasts. (Yes, they are real and they’re spectacular.)

So, it’s really hard. The pose, that is. I have my legs under me, my torso twisted and my neck turned. It looks great, but it feels like a nightmare. Since this is a pose I will do for a couple of weeks, I need a little assistance from the students to get back into it exactly right. Really, I need one student, because having more than one telling me what to do is both annoying and ineffective. (And no, you cannot touch me, so do not even try it.) I vote for my friend Chris to be the official spotter, because he is awesome and has the best view. Just as I got into the pose at the beginning of yesterday’s class, Mark called the whole class to go over to the art department office to gather a delivery of art supplies. Noooooooooooooo!

And there I was, alone and naked with one student remaining. Awkward, right? Oh, it was downright creepy because it was Buzzkill Betty and she said “Oh boy, I get the naked girl all to myself,” in the creepiest voice ever. Yeah, I jumped up, grabbed my robe, and ran for Mark’s office. I’m sorry, but I don’t like that girl’s attitude or aura. Her black soul hangs heavy in the room and it makes me uncomfortable. She seems to enjoy talking about the most depressing things ever. Seriously. Later that evening, out of nowhere and totally unprompted, she starts telling us about some friend of a friend, or something, committing suicide. Why? Why must you always bring us down with your pathetic stories? If you are that sad and in need of attention, please seek professional help. There are people you can talk to at the university.

But wait. It gets worse. She broke the Cardinal Rule of Art Modeling: Do Not Photograph the Model Without Permission. I nearly flipped my shit. There I was, finally in a comfortable zone, listening to relaxing music (a fabulous mix courtesy of my GBF Daniel), forgetting about the pain in my back, and dreaming of warmer weather and a weekend at the beach, when I suddenly see that krazy (yes, with a K) girl holding a camera, about to snap a photo of me — naked.

WTF?

Being a professional, I did not break pose (or wind) to get up and beat a bitch’s ass. Instead, I loudly asked, “OH MY GOD, IS SOMEONE TRYING TO TAKE MY PHOTO WITHOUT PERMISSION?” Her response was “Your face won’t be in it.” To which I replied, “I don’t care. I don’t want my naked body in it.” Absofuckinglutely not. No. No photos of me naked. Ever. If you ask me nicely, and I like you, I may let you take a photo of just my face, so you can get the likeness. Maybe. You have to ask first. Period. If I say no, that’s that. I don’t care if other models let you photograph their naked asses. It’s their prerogative. I’m saying no. That’s that. End of discussion.

She made up some excuse about thinking I once said it was OK, and she finally apologized, but it was too late and insincere. My dear friend Darla is the only one who can take naked photos of me, because she is awesome and would never use the photos to hurt me. No exceptions.

I never want to end on a grumpy note, so here’s a little funny thing I overheard Dani say about Res-N-Gel: “It balls up.” Yes, balls-up makes me laugh. Thank you, Dani — and Joni, Chris, Johnny, Kaelin, Trevon, and the rest of you awesome artists for making the class fun. And for more happiness, a huge congratulations goes to Kaelin for her recent engagement. I am totally jealous of her beautiful ring. She is going to be a gorgeous bride. (Please keep me in mind when you are looking for a wedding photographer, mkay?)

Once more, with feeling. Here are the rules.

1. Do not touch the model. Ever.
2. Do not photograph the model without permission.
3. Do not upset the model.
4. Always thank the model at the end of class.
5. The model is always right.

Who you callin' chicken?

http://www.anxietyclinic.fsu.edu/

[Via http://librarianlyssa.wordpress.com]

Electronics and Old People

Three women, two younger, and one senior citizen were sitting naked in a sauna.

Suddenly there was a beeping sound. The young woman pressed her forearm and the beeping stopped.

The others looked at her questioningly. “That was my pager,” she said. “I have a microchip under the skin of my arm.”

A few minutes later a phone rang, the second young woman lifted her hand to her ear. When she was finished she explained, “That was my cell phone, I have a microchip in my hand.”

The older woman felt very low tech. So she decided that she was not going to be out done, and wanted to do something impressive. She stepped out of the sauna and went into the bathroom. She returned with a piece of toilet paper hanging from her rear end.

The others raised their eyebrows and stared at her. The older woman finally said,”Well, will you look at that I am getting a fax.”

[Via http://davesweb.wordpress.com]

Breaking News...Snooki Naked Photos Released...See Real Nude Photo!!!

Jersey Shore’s Snooki Nude Photo Released… More Promised to Come…

Snooki of MTV’s “Jersey Shore” is caught in the centre of the show’s latest naked scandal. The reality star, real name Nicole Polizzi, is reported to have self-taken VERY GRAPHIC nude pics and video – someone is shopping that same material to the media.According to the report there are self-taken nude photos and also naked videos.

For her part, Snooki denies she has nude photos on the loose.

“Idk where radar online comes up with their stories..weirdos,” she tweeted Tuesday morning.

Then: “Like i said before about my supposed ’sex tape’…There are no nude pictures nor will there ever be. the tabloids just love snook gossip ;]”

Yeah right heres The Snooki Nude Pic that doesnt Exist….

Naked Snooki.com

[Via http://ctpatriot1970.wordpress.com]

Naked Body Scanners. Govnment wants to see you nude.

Government is looking at your naked body and laughing!!!

They’ve got you naked in the airport

Naked in America

The Secret Lives of Nudists

Traveling Naked

GaGa

Still Sexy After all these Years

Twin bed pans overlooking the Septic Tank

Is Sarah Palin Qualified to Squeeze the Cheese?

Traveling Naked

Avoid a fat head

It is better to be drunk than wasted

How to Travel Naked

Beer Alert

A Constellation of Idiots

It is Better to be Drunk than Wasted

Texas Toast

Going GaGa!

GooGoo GaGa

Oct 31 is dress up like Lady GaGa day.  Halloween is canceled!

Happy GaGaWeen!

One million jobs that you can apply for

Consider a job in management

Seasonal Employment:  How to get a job in 30 days

Job Search, Careers and Employment

Online Job Search

Government Work

Job Search

Job Search for the Older Worker

How get a job in 30 days

$50,000 per year

Earning $25 per hour

How to get a job in 30 Days

Landing a Seasonal  Job

How to Earn $50,000 per year

Learn How to Earn $25 per hour

$200 per day

Who is hiring

Why you don’t have a job yet

Online Job Search

Government Work

Job Search

Job Search for the Older Worker

Eating Fire Ants

The Chewing Gum Diet

Chewing the Fat

Golf Balls Killed the Loch Ness Monster

Aphrodisiac

Scientific Serendipity

Jello and Broccoli

Edible Pets

Delicious Monsters

Pizza Squirrel

Sugar in your gas tank

Texas Toast

Edible Flowers

Gift Wrapped Garbage

It is better to be drunk than wasted

Easter Eggs

Eating bacteria

Why you are fat

KudzuFire

Lying about your diet

Twenty Dieting Tips

Eat as Much as You like and Still Lose Weight

Delicious Monster Diet

Lose Toxic Fat

Tea Diet

Sugar in your Gas Tank not in your Stomach

Eating Bald

Cancer and the Miracle Fruit

Eating Bugs

Movie Star Diet

The United Nations Diet

Purple Diet

Maple Syrup Diet

Raw Food Diet

Hey, the Rat likes it!

Wine Diet

Delicious Monster Diet

Blue Food Diet

The Green Tea Diet

Toxic Diet

Ever heard of the Parasite Diet?  How about the Mastication Diet.

A History of Dubious Dieting

Most Radical Diets

Purple Food Diet

No Cooked Fruit Diet

No Fructose Corn Syrup Diet

Vinegar Diet

Surfing Goat:  Squeezing the Cheese out of them

There is no minimum daily requirement for refined sugar

Purple Food Diet

Acai Berry

Crazy Diets

Are you lying about your diet?

Why are you lying about your diet?

Government Work

Beer and Burgers Diet

Perform on Online Job Search

Job Search

[Via http://waitingonthenewmoon.wordpress.com]