Pop Goes the Cherry

In High School, or maybe it was College I can't remember exactly, I knew a guy named Kenny.

So did a lot of you I'm sure, but I have a better reason for telling you. His last name was Hymen. I shit you not. Of course his nickname throughout his entire existence was Kenny 'Buster' Hymen.

Why wouldn't it be?

His parents should have been hauled off to prison of course. I mean, you gotta have a certain responsibility for what you name a kid when you have a last name like Hymen and you haven't had the self-respect to change it. You have to be able to connect ALL dots to what the possible end result of any shortened version of the first name is combined with your fucked-up last name. Shameful...just shameful.

Why is Kenny 'Buster' on my mind today?

Because I had to figure out some way to 'Pop the Cherry' over here, and whenever I think of that phrase, I think of Kenny. And since I knew I'd have to come out swinging, I wondered what I might want to wear for my first day on the job.

Find out what it is after the jump...to LIGHTSPEED bitches!!!

Whenever you start a new gig, it's important to remember two things...always bring something to lighten the mood, or at least make people forget their troubles, and when choosing your opening ensemble always, ALWAYS, bet on black!

Thanks to all of you here for inviting me to tag along, you know how much I respect the hell out of each of you. I've been itching to have an outlet for this part of myself, and frankly? I just don't feel that comfortable anymore doing it on blogzilly, since that has really started to morph into being so much more about my family's life and I'm comfortable with that being just as it is. And with this new charity gig at Mission: iPossible? I need to take that very seriously, and I want to...I think I found a path through that experience. A path that, since I lost my way after wandering off from many of you in the 'collectibles' world, I have never found again.

But you've given me a great gift. This will be my Chuck E. Cheese, where a Kid can be a Kid.

Again.

And I hope to take full advantage of it, and hopefully anyone who happens to read any of this stuff from my 'real world' will understand that we all wear many hats. Some of them we wear to formal events and they smell like perfume and wine, some to family cookouts and they smell like memories and baby hair, and some to very odd parties with friends, where we tell dick jokes and play with action figures, and you don't want to know what those smell like.

Thanks for bringing me Home.

NICE.