that my new profile pic is not so flattering. “Creepy,” some of you have said. “Child molester,” some of you have declared. Thankfully, none of you have compared it to Ann Coulter. I’d rather be a creepy child molester.
In my defense, the picture looks pretty good when it’s not shrunk to the size of Mel Gibson’s common sense. But I agree: When you cram all those pixels into that little window, my teeth somehow grow into piano keys, giving me an eat-an-apple-through-a-picket-fence overbite. And nobody likes a creepy child molester with an overbite. Well, maybe Ann Coulter. (Dear Ann Coulter’s lawyers: I’m KIDDING! Just like when she said that Clinton’s heterosexual promiscuity means that he’s gay! Or when she called Al Gore a fag on national television! It’s just like that! She and I are exactly the same! Except I’m not a scabby whore!)
WHEW. Where was I? Oh, yes: Even with a mouth full of piano keys, I’m still prettier than Ann.
And why do I think this picture looks pretty good in its larger state? Because the smile on my face is the smile of a man sitting next to Romantic Date Guy a few hours after they met. You just can’t get a smile more genuine than that. I’d love to show you the whole picture, which features his alarmingly handsome mug as well, but for various reasons (privacy, judiciousness, manufactured suspense), RDG is going to remain a faceless enigma in these parts for the time being.
In any case, until I find a less bucktoothed mugshot to post here, please scroll down to this image every time you visit. I just don’t have the insurance to cover fright-induced shock, piano-key blindness or derisive-laughter-induced pee-covered furniture.