(no subject)
My roommate Megan has decided that her 21st birthday party will have a drag theme, which means we're all required to crossdress! She and I ran down to Waterworks today to do some 'manshopping'. Walmart yeilded a confederate cap (to hide my hair), a pack of wifebeaters and two rolls of ace bandages. We think we can we can wing it from there.
We had a blast poking around the men's section. At one point we rounded the underwear aisle and half a dozen men of varying ages and ethnicities dropped their purchases and gave us bewildered, deer-in-headlights looks. Megan and I exchanged a glance and ducked around another aisle to quietly wheeze with laughter. I don't think they could have looked any more shocked if we'd stormed a men's bathroom.
After stopping for smoothies, we went home to experiment with bandaging our boobs. I do not have a significant rack, but oh. my. fucking. god. The pain. My ribcage felt on the verge of collapse. I could barely breathe. Even now, three hours later, I feel bruised. Laughter hurts. There's got to be a less agonizing way to hide my girl-curves. On the plus side, squashed breasts make impressive pecs (or 'chesticles', as Megan likes to call them). I make a much weedier man than Spazz.
Then, appropriately enough, we watched Hedwig and the Angry Inch. Irony tastes like nachos.
Megan is a photography/film studies major who enjoys snapping shots of us. She recently got some new lenses and a cable-release for her camera, so she's been actively clicking away. It helps that she works at Ritz, a camera store, and can develop her photos for free. You won't see any pictures of Megan here, because nobody else touches the Camera.
This is Chris, my other roommate, who may very well be the sweetest person on the planet. She looks very classy in black and white.
Chris again, in color. That's our front porch looking out onto our street. It was a nice night.
Mr. Connery on our ugly couch, stuffed bear at his side. He likes to drag it around the house like a dead rabbit.
Aww, Sean is lost in thought...
I take that back! He is alert, and ready to gouge out some eyes.
A slightly blurred shot from a different angle. His face and chest fluff is so overwhelming that the rest of him is often lost in front-on shots.
Sean and myself. I was distracted by Conan O'Brien. I think I may have just woken up. At nine months old, Sean is already pretty freaking huge. He's going to be a moose.
That same picture, uncropped. Sean was just coming down from peeking over my shoulder when Megan snapped this, hence the leg. That weird little box just behind my nose is our useless thermostat. Fear my bedhead.
Wifebeaters make comfy pajamas...
We had a blast poking around the men's section. At one point we rounded the underwear aisle and half a dozen men of varying ages and ethnicities dropped their purchases and gave us bewildered, deer-in-headlights looks. Megan and I exchanged a glance and ducked around another aisle to quietly wheeze with laughter. I don't think they could have looked any more shocked if we'd stormed a men's bathroom.
After stopping for smoothies, we went home to experiment with bandaging our boobs. I do not have a significant rack, but oh. my. fucking. god. The pain. My ribcage felt on the verge of collapse. I could barely breathe. Even now, three hours later, I feel bruised. Laughter hurts. There's got to be a less agonizing way to hide my girl-curves. On the plus side, squashed breasts make impressive pecs (or 'chesticles', as Megan likes to call them). I make a much weedier man than Spazz.
Then, appropriately enough, we watched Hedwig and the Angry Inch. Irony tastes like nachos.
Megan is a photography/film studies major who enjoys snapping shots of us. She recently got some new lenses and a cable-release for her camera, so she's been actively clicking away. It helps that she works at Ritz, a camera store, and can develop her photos for free. You won't see any pictures of Megan here, because nobody else touches the Camera.
This is Chris, my other roommate, who may very well be the sweetest person on the planet. She looks very classy in black and white.
Chris again, in color. That's our front porch looking out onto our street. It was a nice night.
Mr. Connery on our ugly couch, stuffed bear at his side. He likes to drag it around the house like a dead rabbit.
Aww, Sean is lost in thought...
I take that back! He is alert, and ready to gouge out some eyes.
A slightly blurred shot from a different angle. His face and chest fluff is so overwhelming that the rest of him is often lost in front-on shots.
Sean and myself. I was distracted by Conan O'Brien. I think I may have just woken up. At nine months old, Sean is already pretty freaking huge. He's going to be a moose.
That same picture, uncropped. Sean was just coming down from peeking over my shoulder when Megan snapped this, hence the leg. That weird little box just behind my nose is our useless thermostat. Fear my bedhead.
Wifebeaters make comfy pajamas...