Extreme Makeover – Dildo Bob Edition

Dildo Bob has seen better days since his creation in NYC. Quite recently, he’s spent most of his time shoved in the kitchen bread-bin, with thumb tacks for eyes and only one pompom hand. And his front fur falling off. I blame D, I think he gets a bit ashamed when his parents visit.

So we had a bit of a makeover sesh’ a few days ago. I was going to go into detail, but Dildo Bob seems to be seeing his rise to fame and demanded I did it all in photos of him.

*sheesh*

Despite his popularity, he’s still a bit of an enigma.

I’d appreciate it if no one mentioned this to Dildo Bob.

“Er – say what? Me? Enigma?”

“I’m sorry, but, WTF? Have you SEEN the state of me? THAT’S the enigma, right there.”

“I mean, just look at me for crying out loud! I have THUMB TACKS for EYES and a MOUTH.”

 

“LOOK!!! I’m a frigging MESS. I throw my stump and pompom up in disgust at YOU. I have spent the last 3 or 4 weeks shoved in your BREAD BIN. And no, that is NOT a damn euphemism, much as you would like it to be. You need to sort this mess out NOW lady.”

 

“…omg…”

 

“OH. EM. GEE. I love you. I actually love you. This is for me, yes? With 50% off and everything? We need to seriously thank your mom for this. Um…she knows you’re going to use this stuff on me, right?”

(Yes Dildo Bob, she was fully aware that my children would come second to a dildo in being allowed to use crafting goodies.)

 

“Ok, I’mma play in the empty tub while you decide what you’re going to use to make me handsome and stunning, yes?”

Then for about an hour, I fought with string, glitter confetti, glue and all manner of other crafty crap. I could only share my frustration with twitter.


Honestly. Go and try it.

 

Just sayin’.

Uhh…I got carried away. Maybe.

 

“Dudes. DUDES. I’mma work this shit, yo. Is this not the best dildo back you ever saw?”

 

“CHECK IT! I am rocking. Literally.”

(He does have a slight sway. He’s a bit, um, wobbly.)

“Did you SEE my colours? And my amended, tidied-up front-fluff?”

 

“THE FRONT FLUFF. And? Omg. I have EYES. Real ones. That wiggle around and stuff.”

 

“EYES. Did I mention my eyes? I HAS DEM.”

A lunchtime well spent.

“Yeah. *click* I got this.”

Meet Dildo Bob

Whilst zipping my way around NYC and BlogHer ’10 earlier this year, I was lucky enough to stumble upon an AWESOME company by the name of Eden Fantasys. They were sponsoring one of the sessions I went to, and at the end gave us swag bags with all manner of awesome inside. Then I found out at the end of BlogHer, they were having a Dildo Decorating Party.

Words failed me.

All I knew was, I had to go. End of story. I didn’t know what to expect, had no idea what we would be doing (though I had some obvious ideas) but what the hell – I needed to be there.

So I grabbed the rest of the awesome group of people I was hanging around with and made a dash to a hotel over the road to where we were staying, zoomed up a billion floors in a very tiny lift – and literally fell into an actual Dildo Decorating Party. There were dildos everywhere. Along with chocolate penis’ (penii? Ah let’s go with cock – much more familiar), boobs and nipples.

And in the centre of the room – a table, laden with every art and craft supply you could possibly think of. Paintbrushes, paints, glue, glitter, pens, pipe cleaners, fake eyes, feathers, pompoms, felts, flowers OMG EVERYTHING. You basically chose your dildo, and decorated the hell out of it.

And behold – Dildo Bob was born.

Since Dildo Bob was at a party, it was only inevitable he was going to make some friends. Thanks to and for creating Horace and Si-moan (for some reason, Dildo Bob took a shine to Horace. Which is creepy because I’m pretty sure Horace was covered in warts. No offence, dude). Here, they share a questionable Martini on the creation day.

If I’m honest, I’m still not entirely sure what I put in my glass, whether I finished drinking it, or what happened to it, but still.

Since his inception, he’s followed me around  little bit, mostly appearing to be swaying slightly, giving me a one handed wave. I would say he was giving me the finger, but obviously, that’s a little unfair since he would do much more than that.

Sadly, I have no idea where one of his pompom hands is now; I suspect rolling around like a dust sex bunny on a hotel floor in New York. In fact, he’s had to have some serious rubber surgery in the short time he has spent here in my home.

However, with some double-sided sticky-tape and a shit load of determination/stubborness/sheer weirdness, he has been repaired. In fact, he’s repaired, and he seems to be quite content. A little TOO content at times, but that’s ok. He kind of has to be, since D stuffs him in the utility room every time the in-laws come round.

Many MANY thanks to the awesome Eden Fantasys team for hosting an awesome party and helping me create my new-found friend! Also, as a result of winning a competition with them, I have some goodies to give away very soon. Until then, Dildo Bob says peace out, yo.

Recognition, but not for vegetarians.

You all know my love of bacon. I’ve gotten the Kiddos eating bacon. Isaac eats anything you put in front of him (apart from cucumber), and Noah is eating more and more. Especially pork based goods. In fact, Noah will now eat just about anything with pork in it.

And yeah, like I said, you know my love of bacon. So imagine my mother-humping DELIGHT when THIS email arrived in my inbox.

Click to embiggen.

Now, I have no idea what they are going to send.Vouchers? A lifetime supply of pork? Make me president of the board? Who cares. This is a SIGN from the Pork Gods.

In fact, this just shows that if you work at something hard enough, that if you plug away tirelessly, that if you fight for what you truly believe in, then someone, somewhere, will recognise your efforts.

PS If this turns out to be supermarket vouchers, a) I will be REALLY pissed and b) USA bloggers can expect a mammoth giveaway on the blog soon. All be it a bitter one.

The Zombie BlogHer Burg(H)er

I’m fully aware that I didn’t get to spend much time with some of those who I really admire and wanted to meet at BlogHer ’10.

Oh, don’t get me wrong! The time I did spend with the people I did was truly fucking awesome. I loved every MINUTE with them! But there was one disturbing discussion I was having with Jen, The Bloggess, which I felt didn’t cover nearly as much ground as it should have done, and I’m now feeling nervous that the subject was left unclosed.

We got to discussing zombies. I cannot remember how it came about, but we did. It doesn’t matter how we got to discussing this, it’s not important. And we were pretty sure that we weren’t zombies. And then I asked her if she was going to Sparklecorn and CheeseBurgher.

Hmmm. CheeseBurgher.

And then I remembered something.

A good while ago, I saw a link on twitter about old burgers. VERY. Old. Burgers. I had seen a picture of 2 burgers. One was pretty much as fresh as they come. The other…

Well, the other, wasn’t.

These 2 burgers are 12 years apart in age.

Which one would you eat? No, really?

I looked at the article only 30 seconds ago (click on the pic) and already I can’t remember which one is which.

I cannot tell which is the fucking 12 year old burger. To me, they both look surprisingly…recent. What the fuck?

So, whilst talking to Jen about Zombies and their fucking invincibility and whether the CIA had cottoned on to their perpetual existence and were gonna come tearing in to rip the whole joint apart, I suddenly wondered if burgers, and more importantly cheeseburgers, and perhaps even more importantly CHEESEBURGHERS might be responsible for some kind of zombie invasion.

Do you understand where this shit is going? Needless to say, we have obviously uncovered some deep dark secret. And there is proof!

Point the first: LOADS OF PEOPLE HAVE BEEN ILL SINCE BLOGHER ’10. I’ve watched the twitter streams and have observed how many people have been feeling really rough. There were an awful lot of people at Cheeseburgher. I have no idea how many cheeseburghers were consumed. I ate half a cheeseburger. This week I woke up with cramps like I have never known on the face of this earth, and spent 4 hours in the bathroom in the middle of the night discovering the fastest way to lose 3.5lbs.

Info the second: Clearly, burgers live forever. As do zombies. Lets face it, who really knows how to kill a zombie? They always come back somehow. As do burgers. You know you’re gonna see that burger again real soon. And clearly, if you don’t? Well it’s going to sit in your system. Forever. So you will live forever. As a zombie.

Example the third: My left ear has been in an awful lot of pain. Many blame the altitudes; living on the 27th floor of the Hilton, up and down the lifts all day – maybe I burst an ear drum or have an ear infection? OR MAYBE ZOMBIES ARE NOMMING MY BRAINZ.

I should stress, I blame CheeseBurgher for NOTHING. But still, there was a fucking big McDonalds just around the corner from the hotel. Would have been an easy trip for many. An easy trip down a one-way zombie avenue.

I really need to finish this discussion with The Bloggess. Especially as I’m craving burgers right now.

The Blogher ’10 Post with Things I Remember

Because everyone else who went did one, right?

But holy crap, I don’t even know where to start. So instead I’ll throw up events as best as I can, as I remember them, and probably not in chronoligical because hello? I can’t keep up with myself.

I’d already been in NYC a few days when I started to see the tweets on Wednesday from people saying they were on their way; that in itself made me seriously bloody scared. What the hell was I doing there? Thinking I could be in the same league as some of these HUGE bloggers? Meh, worst case scenario, I’d just hide in my room for the rest of the week.

Things started officially for me at the People’s Party where I desperately wanted to meet Jen, The Bloggess. Unfortunately I’d completely forgotten she hides in bathrooms, and so I missed the REAL party.

Fail.

Next day, Friday, kicked off with opening speeches and stuff from the three co-founders/organisers, and a recap of previous BlogHers and how they were trying to improve.

Oddly enough at this point, something struck me and I didn’t see it coming.

I quickly realised I wasn’t interested in this part of it all. I wasn’t interested in facts and figures, in organisations and arrangements – I just wanted (almost desperately) to just get down to meeting people and being able to talk to them properly. Not even in the speed-dating style, which followed shortly after I left the opening speeches, but to just sit and chill and get to know the other 2,399 people who were there.

Already, I don’t remember much from these two days. The day that should have been the greatest blogging days ever because I was at one of the best blogging conferences ever.

Instead, I remember many, many other things.

I remember sweating a lot.

And I remember meeting people I adored almost instantly.

On Friday, I remember hugging a zillion people. I remember making some awesome new friends who I sincerely hope to hang out with for a long time to come. I would list…but I’m scared I will miss someone out. And every one of them is important to me, they helped make my last few days.

I remember people sidling up to me and telling me who they were and telling me they follow me on twitter. I remember going up and down the lift a thousand times a day talking to random people and them instantly loving my British accent.

I remember pissing myself laughing behind my hand because one American girl called out “jolly ho!” as I walked out the lift. I can only guess she meant jolly hockey-sticks or tally-ho; either way I found it fucking hilarious.

I remember meeting The Bloggess, falling to her feet and then discussing cheeseburg(h)ers and zombies (more on this another time). And being completely in awe of how fantastic she is, wanting to take a photo with her and being too terrified to do so.

I still kick myself for that.

I remember Mocha Momma approaching me in the bar to come say hi, me screaming like a little girl, kissing her and then telling her to go away so I could tweet what the hell just happened. And again, forgetting to take a picture.

Yeah, I told her to go away. Er…

I remember going up to Amalah in the bar (can you see a pattern here?) and pathetically saying hi while she and her girlfriends shoved a Barbie doll head (and body) in some hilarious places, while her husband Jason looked on in amusement. And yeah, I didn’t take a picture.

I remember wearing my Heelys for much of the conference, constantly waiting to be told off by Hilton hotel staff, only to have several of them egg me on and one of them buy me dirty food.

Omfg…dirty food. Chicken, gyros and salad over rice with white sauce. I can still taste it. That’s a good thing.

I was pretty damn glad I wore my Heelys for Sparklecorn too, because whizzing around on that dance floor dancing to the BEST! PLAYLIST! EVAHHH!!!! was quite simply the BEST! PARTY! EVAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!! I’ve never seen so many glow bracelets and necklaces, as well as sparkly unicorn confetti all over the place, coupled with someone repeatedly flashing me her Batman knickers (she knows who she is; I know who she is; if she’s reading this post? She needs to know she’s beautiful AND fucking marvellous).

An awesome moment was lurking in a room next door to a panel session with a bunch of other awesome bloggers over lunch (I swear, if I lose contact with some of them I will be so gutted). Behind us was a stall advertising their children’s cooking app on the iPad. Shortly after having my own demo, I sat back down to Skype D and told him about the app. A few minutes later he was part of a live demo via Skype, while other bloggers looked on in awe.

That was pretty fucking cool. Plus I think it may have pushed him a fraction closer to letting me get an iPad down the line…

I loved sitting in the bar with some of my favourite BlogHer friends, who I hope to keep as friends. I laughed as I licked their faces (I dunno what that’s all about, but it works for me), we reinvented our names (Mummy-Tits, PaperCunty, Minnie the Coocher and more). And it was hilarious to pass cocktails around the table in order to get everyone drunk.

I loved charging into other people’s hotel rooms, randomly hugging people and disappearing again, fearful of missing out on anything else, but wanting to meet those  was so desperate to track down and say hi.

I had the best time with Eden Fantasys at their Decorate a Dildo party; Dildo Bob made a few friends. I suspect you’ll be seeing more of him because he’s so fucking cool. Although I do need to stick his eyes back on. I remember airport security not batting an eyelid about Dildo Bob in my hand luggage but causing a huge riot over the stoppers in my Heelys.

I remember hugging Mrs Potato Head, the Pilsbury Dough Boy, a Rabid Rabbit and some dude dressed as the sun.

I remember being really nervous of Dora the Explorer. The size of her head is wrong all over.

I laugh as I remember tweeting that I looked like a black Lily Allen in my lovely cocktail dress, a sparkly butterfly hairband and, yes, Heelys trainers on my feet.

I seemed to forget to eat for doing so many different things, and yet remembering some fucking other delicious foods, and also seeing veal on the menu at BlogHer, not batting an eyelid at the time and then later on wondering what the fuck?

I LOVED being in the sex seminar and trying to liveblog the photography seminar. My MacBook Pro battery died or the internet was shit so it was a struggle both times.

There’s so much. There’s almost too much. But I know one thing is for sure which I hope to remember forever – I had one of the best times of my life. I just hope to God I can do it again one day. I got shit loads out of BlogHer, most of it not what you would expect. I can’t put it all in one place right now; I hope it starts to seep out over the next few months.

Until then, can I interest you in a selection of random iPhone pictures from the week that was NYC, 2010?

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