My boobs were on semi-national television

Ah, the bastion of journalism that is WGN. Rita, friend & co-worker of mine, was going to promote her hobby of bodypainting and she needed a model to do a map of the weather on. So she asked me.

And I said yes. Tom asked me, when I mentioned this to him over a saltine and glass of water (everyone knows the camera adds ten pounds), why I would do such a thing? Why not?

Rita said I had to shave my chest in order for her to paint me. I didn't relish this -- I had heard many stories of ingrown hairs and I feared the worst. So I shaved, and did a quick pump at the gym in the morning in order to make the most of my a-cup.

Rita and her two friends sponged me down with blue paint out in the hallway, making my torso a cerulean ocean all the way down to my wrists. It tickled when the blotted down my sides and the refridgerated set made my nipples stand to attention. They airbrushed a stencil of the contental US on my chest and then hand-drew in the 48 states. Every ten minutes, we went on to the set for a bump and for them to make fun of "my rocky mountain."

When it was all said and done, it was quite impressive.
On my back they did the day's forecast -- 39 degrees and partly cloudy.

The Prehistoric Grapefruit

At Costco (aka HomoSuperMarket) this weekend, I bought what I thought were huge grapefruits. But they are actually Pumellos aka Citrus Maxima. They taste vaguely like grapefruits but aren't quite so bitter and they have a rind that would put bullet proof armor to shame. So peeling them turned out to be a bust, but I think that Pummeloade would be kind of tasty.

Of course, I have eaten one, and I have another 3 to figure out what to do with.

Thanks, Costco!