The Bra On My Head Business

One day last week, out of the blue, I received an email from Noorie, her of the Plethora of Blox place. She asked for a picture of me, something I'm quite used to. These days my inbox positively overfloweth with requests for pictures of myself in a state of dress or undress. I wish.

I have been asked to send old pairs of pants, drumsticks and torn out pages from my journal. Someone once asked for a half drunk bottle of Diet Coke. Someone once asked me to send them money to complete their studies, pretending to be a relative, that's about the limit of my fanmail.

So in reality the request from Noorie was quite a surprise. Then, when I read the last line, it turned into a choking on my tea kind of surprise. It said

"Ummmm..... you've got to wear a bra on your head though."

It's one of those last lines that causes the reader to blink in a sun in the eyes kind of way, to think, in a split second, "Hold on, did I read that correctly?"

I did all that, then went back and read it again. The bra on the head line was still there. I scratched my balls. Something I do to help me think. I think a lot. I need a lot of help.

Now you know the posish. I'm divorced, living with my parents, albeit temporarily. I have two teenage daughters, an ex wife and a fleet of girlfriends in many parts of the world. I'm not sure if girlfriends come in fleets, actually I'm not sure if they come at all, but that's another double entendre altogether. You asked for it, so I gave you one.

In terms of everything except money I am a rich man. Or, maybe a better way of putting it would be to say in terms of everything except money and a library of pictures of me with a bra on my head I am a rich man. I guess some chaps could just go to their flickr account or whatever they use and choose from any number of pictures of themselves dressed in womens' undergarments, but I'm not one of them.

I guess there are fellows with girlfriends, wives or their own bra shops who might be able to take a picture of themselves with a bra on their head at the drop of a bra. Well I'm not one such bloke, so I was stuck. My immediate thought was that I wanted to help poor Noorie, it was only natural and I'm kind like that.

But what the bloody hell could I do? More to the point, how could I do it? This request, to take or supply a picture of me with a bra on my head, well it was a minefield, or even worse, a lingerie field. I thought through my options. All of them were options that centred around one theme; the idea of borrowing a bra from someone and taking a picture.

Of course my first port of call was to look at the girls at work. I'm looking at them as I type this and wondering why I wasted the couple of seconds I spent considering it in the first place. It's not right for so many reasons.

Then I thought of female friends and the like. Now I don't know what the other guys who had the request did but I felt uncomfortable at this in a big way. If I went up to one of these women and asked them to take their bra off for me it would lead to all sorts of things that I just wouldn't have been looking for. It's the old "can I borrow your bra because I need to take a photo of me with it on my head" line. So friends were out.

Then it was family. This was equally bad news. The thought of asking either of my daughters was swept away from my mind in a sea of discomfort. Specifically one of them going

"Uuuuurgh Dad, what are you, some sort of perv?"

And of me thinking that it's not normal. And of the fact that explaining exactly why I needed a bra just wouldn't help things.

The last option was the most shiver inducing.

My Mum.

Oh fuck. No way. It makes me feel quite sick to even think about. The conversation, the photograph and well just everything. I must point out that I didn't even consider it, it just flashed through my mind for about half a nanosecond to be put in the back and never to return.

The result of all this was that I emailed Noorie back to say that I couldn't her what she craved. Pictures of me in front of drum kits, people and buildings I have aplenty. Photographs of good old RD with a bra on his head were in short and probably never to be increased supply.

"Not to worry", she said, "just send a picture of yourself and I'll photoshop a bra onto your head".

Well I trusted the girl. I sent some sexy pictures of me and relaxed, safe in the knowledge that Noorie's photoshopping skills would rise to the challenge.

How wrong I was.

The Emperor's new bra! Did you ever?