Today I wore a tank top under a sweatshirt and jeans to work. (Yay for casual winters!) Getting dressed took practically no time at all, which was a good thing because I was running late as usual. When I run late it really isn’t much different than when I am on time…I don’t spend a lot of time fussing in front of the mirror. So long as my teeth are brushed and I am wearing deodorant, so long as I remembered to put on pants and shoes, I’m content enough to head out the door. So this morning was no different and out the door I went.
Around 9:30 it started to get pretty damn hot at my desk (our HVAC unit is the worst) so I unzipped the black hooded Maker’s Mark sweatshirt rather low without even thinking because I always have a tank top or t-shirt under hoodies.
About an hour later I looked down. Damn, my boobs looked great. Turns out the tank top was a Yummy Tummy brand tank and it pushed the ole girls together in all the right ways. Later in the afternoon I realized I had been distracted all damn day by my boobs. I don’t know how you men do it when beautiful breasts are around. Honestly!
Anyhow, I sent a message out on Twitter that said something about being distracted by my boobs. Instantly I had a few replies about sending a picture to TwitPic or saving a good picture for HNT. One of the folks who replied was Marty and I told him I was pretty much done with HNT, but he could guest post for me. Didn’t take too much before I received an email…
Your HNT needs some boobies, even if they are covered up by coconuts. 
It cracked me up that so many people immediately think of HNT when I mention my boobs. I figured what the hell, I’ll try to capture an image like nothing I have ever posted before. Thought it might be cool to show the view I was having when I looked down all day. Problem is my Blackberry was oh so not cooperative. It just wasn’t doing the view justice. So I snapped a photo like you are accustomed to seeing:
Nothing too out there, but still a little flashback to my HNT days. If you want to see folks revealing a lot more, head over to where it all started and check out the comments. Happy day!
Fuck my life is fantastic.
Fuck my life is fabulous.
Fuck my life is fun.
Yeah, I don’t get the “FML” folks who want to seriously complain about their lives. Life is just too short and too precious to harp on the negative. Life is truly comical. And there is all kinds of sun stuff around you, you just need to know where to look.
I haven’t posted in entirely too long and what brings me out of hibernation? Meeting a porn star’s husband. No shit. Well, that is not entirely why I am here posting. I’m avoiding running the suck machine and putting away the clean laundry I did. Those always send me searching for better stuff to do.
Today at lunch a coworker and I ran errands together. A stop at the grocery store and me joking with the produce guy had her making fun of me for talking to anyone and saying trips with me were never boring. Then the same coworker and I hit the hotel bar close to work for happy hour. (Dude, $3 glasses of chardonnay certainly make my hour happy. Wheeeeeeeee!)
Anyhow, we were laughing and having a great time. An attractive regular bought us each a drink and we WAHOO’d as though it were a $14 cocktail (he’s bought me plenty of those over the years, too…great guy). As we were preparing to leave we struck up a conversation with the adorable guy at the end of the bar who had been on his lappytop the entire time.
Turns out his wife is a porn sta (her site HERE, their reality site is still in development), in town filming a few things. He races motorcross and we got to talking about the sex industry, sports and websites. Cool conversation with a really nice guy. I gave him my blog business card with my ass on the back. Seemed fitting.
Whole point of this post is to say that I really enjoyed talking to the produce guy for a brief moment (the smile on his face was priceless) and the motorcross racing husband of a porn star, each for different reasons. They both made me smile. They both made me laugh.
And really, isn’t laughter what it is all about?
Happy Half Nekkid Thursday. I’ve missed you, Internet.
xoxo
I mentioned in Friday’s post that an “interesting” fact about me is that I once walked naked around the block in the rain. A few folks commented or emailed me wanting to know more details. Honestly, the story really isn’t all that big a deal.
My first apartment was not in the best section of town. Not that it was in the heart of Wilkinsburg or anything, but still, I officially had the zip code. (To those of you who know the Pittsburgh area, that means something.) Fortunately I had three of the most incredible protectors living next door: Danny, Denny and Gary. They were at least 10 years older than me, some of the best drinkers I have ever encountered and all around perfect neighbors for a young girl in her very first apartment.
[Side note: their old house was split into three floors so the guys each had their own apartment. My apartment was actually the second floor of an old house. I had two large bedrooms, a huge living room, a massive dining room and kitchen combo, a bathroom big enough for a small family to live in, plus a third floor attic for storage. LOVED the place. Stained glass windows above the actual windows, mantels above nonworking fireplaces...just a great started apartment for next to nothing. So lucky that a friend suggested it for me.]
One midsummer’s night we were all sitting on the guys’ porch, where we had been all day. All we had done was listen to music, drink beer, do shots of George Dickle and eat some grilled burgers. Pretty damn good time, actually.
I don’t know what hour it was when the rain started, but it had been dark for quite some time. Since we had been drinking for even longer it made perfect sense in my head that we should get our lazy asses off the porch and go for a walk in the warm rain. I am fairly certain the word “refreshing” left my mouth a time or two. Gary was having none of it. He was exhausted and too drunk to move. Fortunately Danny and Denny were usually easily swayed by my grand ideas so they agreed to walk with me. We each grabbed two beers and off we went.
We walked down the path to the sidewalk and were completely soaked. About one house away they both took off their t-shirts and whipped them back towards their yard. When I made the comment that the guys were lucky that they could be shirtless in the rain, they did what most grown men would do and told me to just take my shirt off. Seeing an opportunity to perhaps get something out of this for me, I told them I would take my shirt and bra off if they took their shorts off. They said they would take their shorts off if I would take mine off as well.
Which is how it came to be that Gary sat on his front porch and watched the three of us standing on the sidewalk taking off every article of clothing and throwing them into the yard. I felt incredibly safe considering the fact that I had a 6’4″ cowboy on one side of me and a 6’5″ cowboy on the other side of me. (And also? I was extremely intoxicated.)
Considering the time of the night and the pouring rain there were no cars around. About three quarters of the way through our adventure around the block we heard a noise we couldn’t place. We turned around to see a guy on a bicycle approaching. There was no reason to stop; we just kept strolling along. Although when the guy on the bike past us he couldn’t take his eyes from the three crazy white people walking naked.
Which is probably why he didn’t see the parked car until it was entirely too late. Imagine how he must have felt when the naked people laughed at him. Poor guy.
Only problem with the walk around the block was that Danny’s parents lived a few doors down, on the other side of my apartment. In our drunken heads it somehow made sense that they would be looking out the window in the middle of the night. So we abandoned the sidewalk for the grass yards and army crawled, naked, through six or seven yards. The sound of the laughter would have given us away anyhow, but it just seemed like the thing to do at the time.
Eventually we made it back to the house the guys lived in. We were filthy so we asked Gary to go in and bring us a bar of soap. Yes, we stood in the rain in the front yard and washed off. Because it is classy to shower outdoors with two beautiful and hot neighbors while a third neighbor watches.
Ahhhhh, the logic of youth. :beer:
Several years ago I was out of town…south and far away from home. A man I knew, adored and desired just so happened to be staying in the same hotel, a floor up on the other side of the hotel.
My room in the high rise property was fairly large and extremely comfortable. Walk into a hallway as you enter the room, large bathroom on the left, massive bedroom at the end of the little hallway. Standard hotel room. So was His room, except you walked into a hallway also, but His bathroom was on the right.
You know where this is going, right? Oh yes. Yes, it is.
A group of us went out drinking. I was trying my best not to drool over the finest man I know, so I drank with the boys. And did shots with the boys. Lots of shots. Lots of drinks. Drunk Becky was out in full force. We leave the bar and I somehow staggered my way back to the hotel. He didn’t realize I was as hammered as I was.
Things get a little fuzzy around this part. Somehow I managed to get myself invited up to His room. Kissing commenced. (Yay!) Clothing found itself in a pile. THINGS happened. For hours. Life was good. Eventually sleep called. Both of our exhausted selves crashed.
Until I had to pee. As gently as a drunk girl could, I eased out of His bed and crept to the bathroom. From what I remember I managed to find the pot, paper, sink, soap and towel in the dark (didn’t want to wake a hardworking man up…He needed his rest for the morning round!). I left the bathroom, took a left, stepped outside of the “bathroom” door and blinked in the bright light as I heard the room door lock behind me.
Yep. Instead of remembering I was in His room which was set up opposite of mine, instead of going right and back to the bedroom, I went left and found myself locked out of the hotel room. Naked. No cell phone. No room key. No nuttin. At who knows what time of the night / morning, there I am, stark naked in an incredibly bright hotel hallway.
Yikes.
Using my fingernails I tapped lightly on the door. No response. I tried knocking a bit, but was terrified that I would accidentally wake up someone else on the floor and have to explain my predicament. In my drunken haze I memorized His room number from the door and decided to brave the journey to the white courtesy phone near the elevators.
It took forever for the front desk to answer. When the nice lady answered I asked her to “Please transfer me call to room…ummmmm…fuck. Wait. I was just there. I am locked out. I need room ahhhhhhhhhhh? FUCK!”
Of course it was easy to give His name and get that straightened out, but how the hell could I have forgotten the room number during a short, albeit naked, walk to the elevator phone? Stupid shots of straight vodka. And who knows what else.
Anyhow, broad at the front desk tells me that the white courtesy phones won’t transfer to rooms and that I should come down to her desk in order to get a new room key. “No. Really. Just please try to transfer me to His room. I am kinda drunk and really can’t come down there now. No, I promise I don’t need anyone to come up here. JUST TRANSFER ME, PLEEEEEEEEEEEEASE.”
Two rings. Disconnect. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrr. Sonofafuckingmotherlovenbitch, she was right and the call won’t transfer. Great. Just fucking great.
Deep inhale. Deep exhale. I can do this. Just call that broad back, tell her the issue, get on the elevator, walk quickly to the front desk, grab the key and get to my room. Breathe. Lift the white courtesy phone.
Wait. What is that noise? Fuck. Please don’t let that be a business man leaving for his morning meeting or early flight. Oh Fuck. Stay hidden behind the wall, lean my head out to see who it is. Just keep my body behind the wall and stick my head out.
SAVED! It was Him. Coming out of the room I had been in, trying to find out where I disappeared to. Yay! Honeslty, I don’t think I have ever been so happy to see anyone before. Pure joy!
I wrapped an arm around my boobs to keep them from swinging as I quickly made my way down the hall. He had the most adorable smile through His baffled expression as He watched me saunter down the ridiculously long hallway, cooter out for the world to see. I pushed past Him and rushed into His room. Guess I mentioned something about the fact that I shouldn’t have taken that left at Albuquerque. As I crawled into His bed He laughed and told me that He thought maybe I didn’t feel well so He gave me some extra time in the bathroom, but when I didn’t return He walked to the door without turning a light on and thought it was still closed. Because I didn’t answer His inquires He tried to knock on the bathroom door, but His hand went straight through. Quickly He realized I was gone and found Himself a tad hurt that I would leave without so much as a goodbye. It was right about then that His room phone rang once and hung up. Walking towards the phone He saw my pile of clothes on the floor. Two and two easily added up to a naked Becky in the hall so He threw on shorts to come find me.
To this day He still teases me about taking a stroll through the hall without so much as a stitch on. I swear it is just because He loves to remember the look on my face when I saw it was Him in the hall. (Fucker!)
Monday I actually left work at a reasonable hour. When I got home it was still a picture perfect day so I headed out into the back yard with the dogs to enjoy the sunshine. Guess what? Sunshine is hot! Which means that I wound up taking off my shirt. And reaching for the camera.
Happy HNT to all. Take a layer off and enjoy your summer.
Should you desire to see other HNT participants, check out the comments over where it all started.
Haven’t had any time to take new HNT photos. And when I did get some time, taking photos was not high on the priority list. Of course, if you consider Peter Paul Rubens a part of Half Nekkid Thursday…
…then I did sorta participate.
:duh:
Remember back in March when I met my little cousin’s friend? The one with the fantastic personality, adorable face and smokin hot bod? Well he is an exhibitionist at heart, a man who loves to be free of clothing. Fortunately he enjoyed being a part of the HNT fun and sent a photo taken just for our viewing pleasure. When I said that I would crop his face out he enthusiastically said that was not necessary. I suppose if my body was so damn perfect I would be just as proud. Regardless, without further delay, here again is Luke:
I am sure some of you still want me to post me (and others of course wish I would never do another HNT!). Recently life has been rather full, but I was able to quickly snap this photo. Wish the quality were better, but it will do for now.
If you enjoy HNT and want to see more participants, head over to where Os started it all and follow the links within his comments. Enjoy your day!
I’ve been pretty bad about posting on a regular basis this month. While I know there is no apology needed for letting life, work and travel take their place at the top of the priority list, I still want to say I’m sorry for being so absent from here and from your blogs. I don’t feel quite like Me when I am not reading about your lives and when I am not sharing mine.
As you probably remember, two weeks ago I was in Vegas for a convention. The hotel messed up and gave me a magnificent suite. I was on top of the world. After only being home for two wonderful and whirlwind days, Mother’s Day I jumped on a plane for Georgia to attend a sales meeting a few hours outside of Atlanta. More fun, more friends, more food, more booze, more laughter.
Until late Monday night, after a night of large quantities of vodka, when my Cinderella informs me that she has been offered a job at her old company for tens of thousands of dollars more than she is making now. It took everything I had not to throw up right there. This past year I have come to rely on Cinderella, to trust her, to know how she will react in situations. The thought of us not working together physically hurt. I love her enough to never want to hold her back, but I really didn’t want to see her go. And the poor woman was torn as to what decision to make.
The next afternoon Cinderella was getting on a plane to return to Pittsburgh while I was headed west to Reno. Not so easy to sing praises of her current job when she was covering for my trade show hopping self for two weeks. I spent a day in bed, depressed. Cried more than I wanted to because I knew the inevitable phone call would arrive. Even a Penguins win against the Caps couldn’t truly lift my spirits. Tried to drown my sorrows in booze, but my body wasn’t cooperating. Then a friend who I haven’t seen in a year suggested we go back to my suite to take photos for HNT. Well shit, that certainly wouldn’t hurt!
Initially it was my desire to have him photograph me, but somehow I convinced him to jump in my Jacuzzi tub (yep, I had another suite!). Here are a few of the fun shots from that shoot…
Hands are my favorite part of a man’s body.
Then again, legs are certainly wonderful. 
Almost out of water. So sad.
Bye bye, bubbly water. 
Brave man to let me post my favorite shot, eh?
After the bubble filled Jacuzzi, he asked if he could shower in my awesome bathroom. I said yes and asked if I could take more photos. Turns out someone is an exhibitionist at heart!
Great back shot. 
Looks like I was in there with him, doesn’t it?
Nope! I was fully clothed. See my my pants? 
There were a few other opportunities to do HNT photos shoots with some other guys at the trade show, but the stars never really lined up. Then again, there is always next year! Never turned the camera on me, either. Dammit! One of these days.
And next week I will post the photo that was emailed to me the day we were all going home. Seems one of the smoking hot guys I am friends with enjoys photos. Le rowl! Perhaps I can convince him to email me more pictures between now and next week’s post.
If anyone else wants me to post anonymous photos of them, feel free to email me.
For more HNT fun, head over to where it all started.
So as you know I am here in Vegas, staying in the sweetest suite I have ever stepped foot into. The trade show I am working afforded me MANY free drinks and I found myself more than slightly intoxicated the other night. Somehow it made perfect sense at the time, but I grabbed the camera and headed for the ridiculously huge bathroom. Clothing was off, leaving a trail through the bedroom and to the mirrors. Turns out that when I am drunk I think I am artistic. Here’s the result.
Yeah, trying to take the photo over my shoulder while being kind of drunk wasn’t easy. I probably should have cropped out a good portion of the top that is all hair. And yet I decided I liked the way you could sort of only sort of see me, therefore my lazy and drunk self deemed the photo “artistic” and successful. Then I went on to shoot some more.
Did i mention how difficult it is to do this stuff alone with mirrors while drunk? Yeah, one of these days I’ll get some help with the stupid camera part. What started out as an ok idea turned out to look like I am sniffing my armpit. While I was drunk and taking these photos I got all confused because my Strong Woman tattoo is actually on my right shoulder, but the mirror image shows it on the left in these pictures. Turtle is on the wrong side, too. Yeah, WAY too much for someone who drank enough Ketel One to kill a horse.
Didn’t stop me though. I took a bunch of photos and not a one of them really came out good. See?
I accidentally cut off a good portion of my body, yet sure did get plenty of shower door and my hair is taking over the right side of the image. Sheesh.
When trying to get a decent self portrait I started to laugh at the absurdity of what I was doing. Especially since I was totally naked, taking photos for Half Nekkid Thursday. At one point I was sort of shaking my head at my own self. I think that is when I snapped this one…
I took some breast shots as well, but I wanted this post to be @snackiepoo friendly so I’ll save them for another post. Should you decide that you can’t wait, email me and I’ll send them to you.
Hope your day is wonderful. I head back home to Pittsburgh and reality around 2 PM Vegas time. As much as I will miss maid service and my sweet suite, I am eager to get back to the Burgh. Next week’s HNT will either be shots from Georgia or Reno, NV. Maybe both! (I leave for GA late on Sunday, then go from there to another trade show in Reno until the following Sunday. Should be plenty of time for photos…and perhaps I can even get someone to work the camera or to be in front of it!)
P.S. I probably should apologize for any typos, grammar errors and all around blatant misspelled words. You know I am drinking when I type this so you expected it, right?
And a further drunken PPS
This is the photo with a hopefully better crop, but still the fun hair filter.
Finn wrote a post about what we can do to help make the earth a better place for our kids. Obviously I don’t have children, but I do love a lot of people who will grow up at have their own kids and I would want the world to be a good place for them. Hopefully humans will get their shit together, quit fighting and live happily ever after.
Anyhow, Finn asked what each of us to to be more “green” and earth friendly. She sort of challenged us to come up with more things that we could do. As I was looking through my bills a thought that maybe I could try to go 72 hours without using electricity in my house. Sure, the fridge would continue to sap electricity, but other than that it was worth a good go at the challenge.
And then I realized my cell phone battery was almost dead. That’s cool, I don’t need to talk to anyone. I’ll spend more quality time outside with the dogs; I’ll read “Are you there, Vodka, it’s me, Chelsea” by candlelight. Then I’ll do to the office in the morning and charge the hell outta that fucker. Same for the lappytop…make sure it is fully charged during the work day. That totally doesn’t count as using electricity, right?
Well, I didn’t post on Wednesday, but since I wanted to listen to Clearly You’re Retarded (Britt and Adam’s show on Talk Shoe that had Faiqa filling in this week) I figured using the machine’s battery isn’t using electricity or something like that which pacified my no electric resolve.
From there it was an easy jump to using a tealight or a flashlight and the camera so that I could take a few photos for HNT.
And here is practically the same photo with a different crop: 
Flashlight’s shadows.
More shadows from a flashlight. 
So, which is your favorite of my “no electricity, quickly shoot the images before I burn myself or run out of batteries” photo set?
(For more HNT fun, head over to the comments section where it all began.)
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