This week's squatter, or, Vargas versus Viagra

My current tenant is Kimi of Kimi's Confessions. Look over there on the left--see the cute black and hot pink thumbnail with the martini glass? Yeah, that's it.

You have to click on it if only to check out the great pin-up she's got on her title area (or whatever the cool kids call it--the place where I have Felix the Cat.) She's got a Vargas girl or that-other- famous-pin-up-artist's-last-name girl who is a total babe.

Oh, and Kimi's latest entry is on how she's going to win the bad mother contest because she drugs her daughter. Check it out, all ye who feed your kids cold medicine when you need a good night's sleep, because this is a woman with balls. She does it, and she blogs about it. Talk about honest! Dooce (who?) has nothing on Kimi.

Back to the pin-up.

Do you ever wonder how disappointed guys must get when they see their first naked woman and she looks so disconcertingly unlike a pin-up? I'm not talking about the way pin-ups always have perfect bodies, flawless faces, and exquisite grooming. Or the way pin-ups are always posing cutely when in real life women are picking their teeth or their noses or painting clear nail polish over a big fat run in their stockings. No, it's more the way that pin-ups don't have visible veins, or freckles, or pores, or hairs, or pimples, or scars, and their skin is the same color all over, just like a dolly's. No one looks like that in real life. Except maybe Sean Young in Blade Runner.

I wouldn't be a guy for anything. Real women are so hideous, if I were a guy, I'd be impotent.

So check Kimi's blog out, but keep your big mitts off that pin-up, because she's my new Lezbean girlfriend. Flawless robo-babes with Veronica Lake hairdos are hot.