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Dizzying Intellect » 2009» October

Save The Boobies!

I can’t believe I forgot to mention this until now. I tweeted it on October 1st, and then completely spaced.

It’s the 8th Annual Boobiethon!!!

This started out as a lark — one friend trying to raise money for a plane ticket to get another friend to Florida for the holidays, via blegging. It worked so well, they had money left over. Instead of keeping it, they decided to donate it to Komen. And so, a cause was born in 1991. The Boobiethon.

Both of the friends were also friends of mine, at the time — though we’ve since grown apart — and so I’ve been a supporter for 7 of the 8 years. (The one year that I missed, I had just moved to St Louis, and paypal couldn’t validate my new account in time. This is back in the stone age, when paypal only allowed checking accounts for funding.) I’ve also sent in pictures several years, but I’ve never told which years, and I’m not going to start now.

It’s just everyday bloggers, girls next door, sending in flirty but not offensive pictures of their cleavage — in exchange for your donations to Komen. They’re fun and sexy, but no faces or names are shown. And there’s a special page, if you donate $50 or more (which I always do), which shows a lot more skin. This section tends to be even more clever and creative, but my favorite of any year so far is just saran wrap. Sounds boring but it works. Some of the pictures in all sections are simple, some are artistic, some are fun, all are boobies.

The main page (linked above), and the page with instructions on how to donate, are always work-safe. The rest, uh, no.

Go check out the pictures, and then donate. Who doesn’t love boobies? Who doesn’t hate breast cancer? And really, after the year I’ve had, the life you save may be mine.

Hurry! It ends tomorrow! (But in the past, the pay-per-boobies password has worked for a while after the end.)

Zzzzz

Ugh, what a weird dream. I dreamed this elderly female zombie, with a thick New York accent and wearing a Chanel power suit, was chasing me through London.

I haven’t had one of those slow motion running dreams in a long time — where they keep catching up with you no matter what you do. *shudder*

(Now that I’m awake, she was physically rather similar to Juno from Beetlejuice, but older, and without the spunk and with more low-key, oozing creepiness.)

Shalit Lives

I would never have believed it. Never.

Gilad Shalit is apparently still alive. I’ve actually commented in several places, before today, that exchanging palistinian terrorist prisoners for another bag of bones was absurd, because it was impossible that he was alive. I can’t even imagine how they kept him alive for three years among those monsters. He must have been isolated, and it must be something approaching a miracle.

Or it could be an imposter, and the details tortured out of him before he was murdered. Call me a cynic. But how can they not trade a thousand murderous bastards for the chance, now? Damn it.

Nothing to Kill or Die For

I drive past this sign every day, weirdly located in the suburbs — which are more politically conservative than the city, so maybe not so weird. And I finally took a picture this week.

I actually think it’s pretty. I’m a sucker for stained glass. Personally, I don’t approve of atheists being so confrontational, but whatever. First amendment and all that. And while there haven’t been any Christian signs in the area, there was a very pretty and simple digital billboard wishing a blessed Ramadan. (Placed by a local grocery store that has luscious samosas.)

It always makes me laugh that it’s right next door to a McDonalds, but I don’t know exactly why…