Monday, April 14, 2008

My butt's still got it!

On Friday night, I made my return to the site of one of my most embarassing moments of the past few years. And judging by, say, the picture included with my last post ehre, it takes something substantial to embarass me. I can do cheerleaders, french maids, belly dancers...frankly I think I have ruined every male fantasy out there over the course of my four years with Doc and Woody. But at Hunks With Hammers last year, I did my best to ruin some female fantasies as well. I don't know if overweight-unshaven-artistic-type is a female fantasy on the level of hot-nurse-with-buttons-undone for men. If it is, however, I destroyed it. As I paraded my butt-painting (they were still big at this time last year) up the catwalk at the centre of the Greely arena, some overly-enthusiastic ladies managed to pants me. And then rip down my underwear. To reveal my entire lower body in all it's naked glory. Or...it's naked...whatever is the opposite of glory.

So when I returned to Hunks With Hammers this year, I brought the butt-painting out of retirement, and walked it down the catwalk once again. (I also modelled a Guitar Hero 3 box while a guitar player played You Shook Me All Night Long, which was kinda funny for the first verse, but I think grew tiresome after the fourth.) This year, no one exposed my junk to the ladies of Hunks With Hammers. But boy, did they all remember last year! There was no topping that, really. This year I named my latest butt-painting "Ladies of Greely, You Owe Me", which was a little mis-labelled, since this year the event was held in Vernon. But no matter. Although there was an auctioneer, I took the microphone and cajoled, insulted, and otherwise abused the audience until the painting had reached a reasonable price. In the end, the painting sold to the same group of ladies that had purchased last year's painting - for 120 bucks, which goes toward cancer. I think in general, the value of my butt-paintings has diminished over this past year, but the value of berating a shamed crowd into spending money on one is huge. (As I was last year, I was followed on stage by Pierre Polievre. I have to go on first because his act is tough to follow. As Hendrix was to Monterey, so is Pierre Polievre to the county-fair and arena/barn-fundraiser circuit.)

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