The 2006 Boobie-Thon wraps tomorrow, October 7th, at 11:59 p.m. EDT. Photo submissions end at noon, 12 p.m. EDT, Saturday. Go. Donate. Submit. Now.
Those of you who remember me from the old "Ain't too proud to blog" days probably remember my blog never lacked for controversy swirling around it. Someone was always after me for something I said or did. Pretty much went with the territory - you have that much traffic, it's like filling up a stadium and just waiting for the drunk guy to hop the fence and attack the pitcher.
I developed a pretty thick skin over the years. The few occasions I was tempted to break down and cry over things I'd read about myself I'd usually end up just grabbing a margarita, biting my lip, and giving the bird in their general direction. Sometimes publicly. Sometimes too publicly.
But earlier this week, I cried. Call it hormones. (Thank you, M&Ms.) Call it lack of sleep. Call it chasing after two toddlers while running a 'round the clock fundraiser. Call it looking at one too many set of breasts in a 24-hour span. But if you've got a spare few to kick back and read just exactly how I'm the anti-Christ of the Intarwebs...well, here you go...
"Pink porn". "Porn for the cure". "Pink ribbon profiteers". Were they serious? Were they really serious? I couldn't fight back fast enough.
I was seeing my name online - in Google News no less - as if I were the blog-equivalent of Heidi Fleiss. The criticism was crossing international borders.
I mean, I'm not that blonde. I know what we're doing is "in your face" and controversial. But you'd think I was setting back the Womynist Movement and breast cancer struggle a full 20 years with the click of a "publish" button.
I'm honestly too tired to fight it any more. The good far outweighs the bad. I know what we're doing and why we're doing it.
I started this campaign letting my tits speak for themselves.
And that's the way I intend to end it for 2006.
Thanks to everyone who's supported us over the years!
P.S. If you think you're being original with that prostate/testicular/cervical cancer joke and just what kind of campaign we'll launch to cure it...you're not. Save it. Buy "Lame Jokes for Dummies" and go back to page one where the priest and rabbi walk into a bar. Lather, rinse, repeat.