Not sure I have the words, but there are lots of boobs in the trailer so I’m going to have to see this eventually. Wow.

Forgive me, but I felt the need to seriously toot my own horn.

Tonight I reluctantly accompanied my wife to something called a “jewelry party”. Think Tupperware Party but with necklaces and rings and bracelets and shit. Anyway, I went because my beloved wanted me to. Plain and simple. I thought I’d be bored as fuck but at least I’d be there with her and the kids. I also wanted to check out the new LED TV the host of the party had purchased. All in all I actually had a good time. But it was what I did at the end of the party that made my night and made me even more awesome than I already am.

The host of the party was a very nice lady my wife works with and she invited friends and coworkers. And those invited could bring friends so it came as no surprise that “N” was there. Roommate of “S”. 5′-5″. Brunette. Made of breasts. Attractive. Spacey. Christian. I first met her one night at Fogo De Chao (fuck that place) in Baltimore where I learned she really loved women but that God didn’t approve of such things. (Right. I think I’ve just said all I need to).

So tonight I walk in and “N” is sitting on a couch and bombarding the poor girl presenting her jewelry with question after question after fucking question. My brain was screaming for mercy after about 36 seconds of this so I retreated downstairs to watch Cartoon Network with my kids. I didn’t return upstairs until my wife came to fetch me. When I came upstairs “N” was still sitting in the same spot on the couch. I plopped down next to her and asked if she had stopped her prattling. She didn’t understand my question and instead asked where I had disappeared to. I ignored her. I then noticed her iPhone sitting on the couch between us.

“You’re phone?”, I asked.

“Uh, huh.” she responded.

“Cool. I’m going to be nosy now.” I said, and with that started rooting through her apps. She didn’t seem to mind. Heck, she even asked me to open her calculator app so that I could help tally her jewelry order. She had Facebook. She had a Suicide Girls “Strip Flip”.

And then I hit “Photos”.

Photos of her kid. Photos of her and her friends having fun. Photos of her topless. Photos of her kid in a firetruck. Photos of…um…what? I froze. I turned to look at her. She was hard at work looking at the jewelry catalogue. I looked back at the photo. My heart was racing. What the fuck do I do?!?

I calmly look down at my phone. Ringer off? Check. I look back to the photo. I look back at her. Still engrossed in jewelry catalogue? Check. I push the MMS button. I quickly enter my phone number. I press “send”. I quickly close her photos. I go into her texts and I delete the entry that says she sent something to my phone. I turn her phone off. I put it back down next to her. I thank her for letting me be nosy.

I leave the party fifteen minutes later. Mission accomplished.

My favorite band lives there. It’s further north so I’m assuming their summers aren’t like the surface of Mercury. Oh, and the world’s largest population of bisexual women live there. Awesome. Sold. Where the fuck is my passport?

WTF? I got stuffed in lockers, spit on, and tripped in the hallway repeatedly. I couldn’t even bring myself to talk to a girl. Didn’t even kiss one until I was 16. This 14 year-old kid got to repeatedly bang his hot teacher. Further proof there is no God.

Parents are quoted as saying as they are “unhappy about the behavior”. I say they should be feeding that boy some steaks. Lucky bastard.

Click here to see the whole trailer. It’s ok. But not as good as this:

I heart Olivia Wilde. Much better than Megan Fox. And you can quote me on that.

My current favorite porn star (besides Tera Patrick) is the girl you see in the thumb to the right. Her name is Faye Reagan (aka Faye Valentine). Ginger red hair. Pale skin. Freckles everywhere. Three things that make her a little atypical for the porn world. Yet despite this, her star is growing. So much so that the company American Apparel took notice and started using her as a model for their clothing (although she goes by the name “Jillian”). An awesome idea if you ask me. Even better is that American Apparel doesn’t airbrush their models. In other words, if you go to their website (or look in their catalogs) and whatever the model is wearing is sheer, you’re going to see some nakedness. Really really wonderful nakedness. I went looking for bras and found some gorgeous tittays. So go check it out. Now. Even if you’re at work. Your IT Guy’s firewall isn’t going to notice. You’re just looking at clothes, after all.

Click here to see an awesome slide show of Faye Reagan modeling tons of American Apparel garments.

For those of you that desire more and would like to check out Faye doing what she does best, I recommend renting or buying ‘The Gauntlet: 3′.