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The rantings and ramblings of Kimberly Allison

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

Timberlake and the Trouser Snake



Fair warning: This is going to be an "R" rated posting. If you are easily offended or have zero sense of humor, please close this blog and go back to your Kindle.


Alright... is it just us adults? Good.


Like you, I have fallen into the warped web of "Political Correctness". Everything I do is second guessed. Will I offend someone? Will this be censored? Trust me. This isn't such a far reach. I got my fingers slapped by a show censor as well as having several over-critical moms call me on the carpet about the inappropriateness of an image of Betty Page. In a bikini. Come on! A bikini on a pin-up icon from the 1950s?!?


It's rampant. A couple years back a local art gallery received a complaint. It seems that a VERY abstract painting of a reclining male nude inspired the ire of a toddler's mom. Understand, this painting was so abstract that you needed special glasses, a cheat sheet and a bottle of gin in order to see the offending organ. As a mother, I found this nit-twit's complaint laughable. This (of course) was her first child. A son. And as a mother of 3 boys, I can confidently tell you that boys will discover this fantastic new toy ALL BY THEMSELVES. They don't need a hysterical mother pointing at a slew of oil paints yelling "OMG... it's a PENIS!"


Last week, I settled down to watch "America's Next Great Artist" on Bravo. I love this show. I adore the energy and creativity. But last week, in a nod to street art, I found myself getting a bit wistfully envious. Two artist collaborated to make some randy tigers. As they giggled, they drew some whimsical penises. Wow. Talk about balls. (good pun, huh?)


I found myself wishing that I could do that. But the fear of offending that one-in-a-hundred person is a millstone around my neck. What if they revolk my artist license? Wait. Being an artist IS my license.


Enter Justin Timberlake.


It's one of my favorite viral videos. A SNL short of Justin swaggering around, wearing a suit and a gift wrapped box around his goods, singing about his "Dick in a Box" (excuse me... "**** in a Box" as the censors would remind us.) My mind wanders as it does. Could I make a tiny monster and name him Dick, and place him in a box? But then naughtiness gets the best of me. Why name a monster Dick when I can make the real McCoy?


So, I bought some boxes and some flesh toned socks. I made some small, cheerful penises so I now have my own Dick in a Box.


Censors be damned. Enjoy.



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