How I Spent My Sunday
October 29th, 2006
To be fair, it started with an innocent drive to the country to buy a pumpkin. It ended with two women in fetish gear on my couch.
You’re dying to know, right?
A few weeks ago:
Friend - “So, I have a friend, blah blah blah photographer, blah blah blah fashion shoot, blah blah blah favor, would love to use your house.”
Me & The Betrothed – “Sure.”
Last night:
Friend – “So thanks again, blah blah blah Suicide Girls, blah blah blah I’ll be there at the shoot.”
Me & The Betrothed – “Suicide Girls???”
The Betrothed, silently, in his head – “Oh yeah.”
Today:
Photographer – “Before the models get here, wanted to warn you, blah blah blah nude, blah blah blah fetish, blah blah blah riding crop, ball gag, you okay with all this?”
Me & The Betrothed – “Um, sure.”
The Betrothed, silently, in his head – “OH YEAH.”
So the girls showed up dressed for the first shot. Which involved them strutting down the middle of the street, in front of our house, with one of them leading the other by a leash. They were each wearing corsets, thigh highs and five-inch vinyl heels, and I’m pretty sure our 80-year-old neighbor had a massive heart attack. (Hopefully, because of the date, he thought they were just your average SDSU sorority girls dressed up for Slut-o-Ween.)
Of course, there was an audience indoors, as well. In addition to The Betrothed, the friend who set this up came over, along with another lucky gentleman. So just to review – that’s me, one photographer, two hot Suicide girls, and three men who were suddenly incapable of remembering their own names.
Now back to the pumpkin. We got up early and drove out to Bates Nut Farm, which is probably the least punk rock thing we could have done in preparation for this photo shoot. We returned with a lovely specimen, ready to carve. And carve we did! Once the photographer started snapping, we were obviously keeping an eye on the shoot. But, we didn’t want to stare, and after reviewing our iTunes libraries, surfing MySpace, and fully discussing the previous evening’s show (SoftLightes and Van She at Beauty Bar), the four of us not involved in the photo shoot had to find a way to keep occupied. So, like the wholesome, crafty people that we are, we carved our Halloween pumpkin while one girl tied the other one up and shoved her down onto all fours a mere 20 feet away.
We really did manage to distract ourselves, but every once in awhile a slice of conversation would cut through the din and silence us immediately. Something like “Well, why don’t we try a shot with me holding the whip and her licking my nipple?” Then the boys would all lean over in unison to get a better look at the scene. Hell, I leaned over right along with them.
The girls were lovely and quite sweet. By the time they finished the shoot, we were all chatty and it seemed quite normal that our living room couch had just seen some serious girl-on-girl action. And then, as they were packing up to leave, I noticed their ball gag lying on the coffee table, right over my copy of Martha Stewart Weddings.
Damn–I miss all the good shit! Next month, when I’m not on vacation, we’ll probably host a boyscouts reunion or some shit.
Oh dear. My husband is going to have a massive coronary when he finds out that there were Suicide Girls in his ‘hood and he didn’t know about it!!!
Wait. I’m confused….did you actually say that you went to Nates Butt Farm? Er, I mean, Bates Nut Farm? I’m dying to go there now that I’m a domesticated mom-type of animal…
Really though? Those pics are fu**in’ hot. We were all drooling over the computer last night! Ruby included. Not sure if that’s a good thing.
Oh and by the way, I was finally able to secure that boy scout troop for you on the weekend of November 10th.
Okay, okay…
I didn’t have a coronary… but I did pass out and hit my head. I don’t surf SG at work. So it was a shock to the system. I’ll let you know when the shots are on the site.
The co-eds in the neighborhood have been hard enough to handle. I almost crashed the car last thursday night. 2 tall blond 19 year olds (or whatever, how can you tell these days) were walking down 63rd at 11:30pm wearing the tiniest red satin bikinis with big feathery devil wings and tails. Then I hear one of them yell… “don’t stare!”
Come on. What is the reaction you think they were looking for?
I’ll make you a deal, you don’t dress like a prostitute… I won’t stare.
You show up in my living room with a ball gag and a riding crop… I’m going to watch.
Azron
PS… I love Nate’s But Farm. The girls love going to the ” Punkin’ Patch”
Aaron, you’re a dirty old man. And I do believe your cute wife could pull off the Suicide Girl thing pretty well. Mild-mannered City Hall employee by day….
Do they have apple picking at the nut farm? I want to go apple picking.
I will never look at your couch the same way again.
That is one of the most hilarious things I have read in awhile! Awesome!
I’d be more likely to stumble upon and appreciate your lovely home in this photoshoot while surfing the web than the nice spread in the SD Home article.
Kudos to the photographer.
From “the betrothed” I could have expected this, but I had higher expectations of you!
Hi sirs
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