COLLECTION: Sticky, icky, icky

Sorry it’s been so long since my last post. I should have a few more up over the next few days though.

Anyway, initially I’d planned on writing something about how wet t-shirt contests have been staged using the same three elements—water, white t-shirts and girls—for years and years and how, for that reason, I’d set out to update the formula. Building a better mouse trap if you will. But it would’ve all been lies.

The truth is, Sarah is a publicist who has worked with Rod Stewart, Maroon 5, Simple Plan and Gavin DeGraw. But more importantly, she’s one of my best friends in the whole world. A few days ago she called me somewhat distressed.
“Why aren’t I on your blog?” she asked.
“Um, I don’t know. You never like the pictures I take of you.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t photograph well…”
After a bit of a pause, I came up with a plan.
“Tell you what, why don’t I buy 6 white t-shirts, you can come over and I’ll throw different liquids at you to see which is best for showcasing the goods.”
“Sounds like fun.”
See, what did I tell you: Best friend. Oh, and did I mention she’s got some of the most awesome breasts ever? Well, she does.

Luckily we’re both are somewhat, um, shall we say "underemployed." So there’s no lack of daytime hours to kill.



Sarah, the breasts and the t-shirts.


Ok, this one needs a little explanation: For all the hands free shots, I used the auto timer. Getting the timing right was damn near impossible, so I just started tossing the milk around when the light started flashing. For some reason, nothing is funnier, but in no way does it explain her strange Jesus pose.








Milk: Not bad.


Shirt change. Then Fanta.




Better.


Another shirt change.


Then orange juice. Of course, the auto-timer missed the shot again. I’ve got to buy a remote…


It did the trick though.


Then it was time for coffee.


Temp check. It’s good.


Ahhh, missed it again.


And again.


Oh well.








Syrup wasn’t nearly as interesting as I’d hopped.




But it was Butter Rich.


Even the thought of chicken broth is a funny one.








Winner!




After Sarah left, as I was cleaning I realized I still had some supplies left… I think you know where this is going… come on, you’d do it too right? I mean, it’s not like I’ve got anything better to do. Plus, I was curious about exactly what I’d subjected my friend to.


Waiting for the auto-timer… considering a shave.


Wow is that cold.


The chicken broth was the grossest.


Really, it stunk.


I almost threw-up. I don’t know how Sarah did it.


I had hopes that the soda would cut the lard… I don’t know though. This couldn’t have been good for her hair.








No milk left. Victory supreme.


The coffee burnt my eyes though.


I’m sure I need a new prescription now.


And last but not least... the syrup.





When Sarah called me later that night I was so excited to tell about how I’d been though all the same tortures she’d been though. Maybe I was too excited. I told her how I too had now experienced the stinging, the cold and the wretched smells and how I’d never subject her to something I wasn’t willing to try myself, Mid way through she cut me off to point out one simple fact: A real friend would’ve done it first. Er, um, gee, well…

“Just busting your balls... What’re we doing tomorrow?”





QUESTION: Does anyone know why the archive buttons aren’t working? Or more importantly, how I can get them to work…. Thanks.