I took an erotic bath in front of people once. Well, technically, it was more of a delousing, but my cellmate seemed to like it.
Dita Von Teese confuses me. Not all of me, of course. My penis, for example, is very clear about its feelings in this matter. Then again, there’s very little my penis isn’t clear about… except national healthcare reform, where it’s torn between accepting a compromise that yields positive results for as many as possible and a hardline stance that requires all urologists to be big-knockered blonds named Krissi.
Best description of this photo: "Sauron's Shrimp Cocktail".
The rest of me is similarly torn about Dita. On the one hand, she’s an artist whose medium is her own physicality. She has little interest in the conventional embrace of nature as an ideal, instead admiring constructed or augmented beauty. As someone who has little patience for the deification of all things natural (if nature’s so awesome, why does it catch fire so easily? especially squirrels?), I have to admire how much thought she’s put into justifying her profound need to show the world her tits. On the other hand, she married this guy:
Dig the suicidal imagery. It'd be more impressive if he weren't forty. At this point, the man is just one giant hesitation mark.
Yeah, yeah, I know… when not buried under mounds of coke, and when occasionally distracted from picking the scars of his deeply resented childhood Christianity, Manson can be a similarly thoughtful fellow. But most of the time, he’s just a tool.
He does have a type, though. First there was Rose McGowan:
The pre-Dita. Poor Rose... crazy-hot is only a good thing when there's a hyphen there instead of a comma.
…then Dita herself:
…then Evan Rachel Wood:
Questionable taste in men starts early. I hear she was dating Eric Roberts in the womb.
…and now alt-porn starling Stoya:
Otherwise known as his Dita Do-Over.
By my calculations, if you’ve got a pale-skinned daughter with a penchant for dyeing her hair, there’s a 97% chance that Marilyn Manson is going to bone her at some point. Then again, you may not care, since it was your lack of attention that turned her into a world-hating little gothlet in the first place. Way to go, Dad of the Year.