Brenda Dickson: "Give yourself a chest camel toe by lifting nuts and bolts to your chin!"

Welcome to my home...I'm Brenda Dickson. You may remember me from such soap operas as The Young and the Restless...oh wait, that's the only thing you'll remember me from because I didn't have a career beyond that.

Fact: If you get skinny enough, you'll look like a lollipop...nice big head...stick body...that's the goal, isn't it?



Thanks to comedian Deven Green for posting these on YouTube. Here are the rest of the spoofs:









And here's the original:



Enjoy.

Tuesday Hotness

So there's been a lot of talk recently about how this blog has gotten "too literary" which I've decided to translate into "less talk, more rock" and/or "shut up and get to the point."

I'm not made of time people and neither are you. If you want short I will give you short, so let's cut to the chase. I have a thing for guys named Sean - it's something to do with calling out Sean in certain situations and my name being Sean and the delicious sexy identity crisis that ensues thereafter.


Here's the original Sean for your Tuesday hotness (if you're looking for something a little more naked, feel free to check out last weeks homofication series here, here and especially that Breaux Greer here.)

Manorexia...this summer's hottest trend?

From Marc Anthony to Carson Daly, this year's new masculine couture is taking a page from the women's fashions of yesteryear. I personally don't enjoy this latest fad, as I like to eat ribs, not see them exposed on a shirtless guy at the beach. After all, I am only human and the time will come when I will no longer be able to resist my urge to play a ribcage like a xylophone.

My personal opinions aside, the headlines this month proclaim that manorexia has claimed yet another hapless hetero: John Mayer.

Sure, he's not really a gay icon. That said, I often doubt he is actually, in fact, human. I have long since surmised that those crazy genetic scientists at Columbia/Sony BMG cooked him up in a test tube by splicing the following:

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Oh, John Mayer, you're the only celebrity I know of that would sign a piece of trash. Though I suspect Pamela Anderson would also do as much for her "fans".

For years, Mayer's non-offensive blend of blues-rock musings and boy-next-door good looks have left me feeling...well...like I'm watching a bag of Wonderbread dry-out on my kitchen counter. But then there was that delightful guest appearance on Chappelle's Show. And then the tattoos. And then Jessica Simpson. And then the marvellous romantic hybrid that is Anistayer or Johniffer or some other clever mash-up of names that escapes me right now.

So, whatever his dietary choices may be, whether it's a cup of dust or a McRib sandwich, I've decided that I like the guy and have decided to include him on my list of things that get better with age. I've been a fan ever since he lightened up my spring with:


Look at those legs. Look at those pubes. Look at that...is he stuffing?

Where the fuck can I get one of these?

Lastly: John Mayer, if I ever see you wearing the Borat-sling in person, you've won the right to teabag me...I'm all yours, baby! Ughn!

Hot in the City - 25 Live Tour

You know who was in town tonight doing you know what at GM Place. I went as part of the Xtra! West press contingent, but can't scoop myself here too badly as I'm writing a full proper article for print in two weeks or so (social columnist by day, blogger by night). But let's just say that George Michael can join Patrick Stewart on my "things that get better with age" list.

As a woman named Sally pointed out during the intermission: "I want to nail him in my love coffin."

25 live = 25 years of performing. If you want to read more about it, click here. That's almost as long as I've been alive, so I gotta give the guy some blog love right here. In fact, every time he came to my side of the stage, I waved with one hand while pointing at myself with the other. Maybe I did some Ricky Martin-inspired hip moves too. Quit judging me.

No video postings from the Vancouver concert online yet, but here's the encore from Phoenix:

Patrick Stewart + Rod Stewart = ?

Some things get better with age: tobacco, port wine and 70s porn are a few things that come to mind. Recently I've decided Patrick Stewart belongs on that list.



Damn that Saucy Patrick Stewart! Though this video got me thinking. If Patty Cakes and Hot Rod had a love child, what would she look like?

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Food for thought.