Rose's Cantina

Okay, so the picture didn't work out exactly as planned. There were no calls from TMZ. No trending on Twitter. Not even one comment. I showed it to Marissa, thought she'd be horrified. She just chuckled. I still think it's good to see pictures of yourself from afar, to see what others see when you accidentally forget to lower the blinds. Besides, I wanted to know what it feels like to have your privacy invaded by paps who intent on smearing your photo all over the tabloids. Now I know how Kirstie Alley feels. It reminds me that I have to discuss my breast reduction with the doctor today. Look at how dippy and slumpy my shoulders are from the over-the-shoulder-bolder-holders. Unfortunately, my naked blogging seems to have had a negative effect on my numbers which are the lowest they've been since I started blogging. Better take the picture down. I seem to be scaring away readers.

I've always wanted to be famous. Also rich. Perhaps notorious. I've never been any of these, but I wanted to know what it was like. So I paid a paparazzo to stalk me and take naked pictures of me blogging. I was hoping this would improve my numbers. And let's face it, I'm not getting any younger or prettier. Actually, my husband Scott took this photo looking through our backgarden. The neighbors were too busy swapping spit or smoking crack to notice. I sit in this window, like Rapunzel, sometimes letting my hair flow through the air vent at odd times of the night. Sometimes I'm naked, sometimes I'm not. But I figure if anybody with a long lens wants to take pictures of me and post them on the Internet, have at 'er. I'm not like Catherine, I keep my nips heavily guarded behind my laptop. Oh yes, and I've decided to issue a challenge to my fellow bloggers. Jenny Lawson, Rosie O'Donnell, Ellen and Oprah. You know who you are! Come j...