Say cheese!

There comes a time in everyone’s life when you just happen to get photographed (or videotaped) naked. Or nekked as I like to call it.

First, Mommy thinks it’s precious to snap some film while her little Schmoopy’s in a bubble bath. Then as you grow up, your big sister or brother thinks it’s hilarious to take pictures while you’re undressing. In fury you lurch to grab the camera only to *whoops* accidentally drop your drawers to the floor. Blackmail would ensue and you’d be stuck with all the chores for a whole month.

Ah, harmless pranks of youth.

As adults, it aint so funny. Unless of course you are posing for said skin pics. And by posing, I mean, getting paid. And a consent form has been signed. And the moolah deposited in the bank.

Until then, it’s simply not de rigueur to snap one’s camera whilst another is in flagrante in de shower.

Flash back to the hubby’s birthday. We were in the Big Easy for some big food, and big crazy ass fun. Three other couples were with us, and well, we were all-a-drinking-eating-drinking-laughing-drinking-earningbeads and drinking.

Did I mention we were drunk like the WHOLE freaking time?

After gorging on oysters and wine at Acme, we headed back to our condo to nap a bit, clean up a bit, and head back out for more food and debauchery.

That’s when it happened.

While the hubby was taking a shower, our friend Mr. Inch decided it was time to photo-document hubby’s fine form. Inch slowly opened the bathroom door, stealthily grabbed the shower curtain and BANG! Whipped open the curtain, and snap snap snap – took  nekked photos and laughed uproariously.

The rest of us were rekindling our buzz in the family room when it all went down so we didn’t at first hear the hubby’s expletives. The WHAT THE FUCKs? The GODDAMITs. The GET THE FUCK OUTTA HEREs.

Hell, we’ve known Inch and his wife Betty for a long time. They’ve even seen my nekked boobies. But that’s another story involving drunken boating and Mai Tai’s.

So it wasn’t a big deal that Inch took a pic on our Big Easy trip of the hubby’s big dick. {I really felt compelled to rhyme in this post. Sue me.}

We all got a good laugh over the whole peeping paparazzi incident. I saw the dick pic and I must say, I was proud.  {Insert applause and high fives}

Fast forward like 4 months.

We’re at Inch and Betty’s for a party. Several couples are scrolling through Inch’s digital dial when my radar went off. It dawned on me – Inch never deleted those photos. The hubby’s tallywacker was still on his camera.

Somebitch. I walked as fast as I could in super high strappy sandals and grabbed the camera. I then clickity clacked myself away as fast as I could, which was hard given the aforementioned strappy sandals.

Yep. Nekked dick pics were still there. Inch just laughed and shrugged. Using gross exaggeration, I deleted the photos.

Hubby just kinda winked at a couple of the ladies but me? I was not all that amused. Inch sauntered back over and whispered two words “Memory card.” And then “Flickr.”

One day – Inch.Will.Pay.