What a mother! One of the latest Bird boycott letters, signed by Stephanie Harris of Mothers Against Illegal Aliens
As Feathered Bastard's co-clucker The Bird mentioned this week in his column, Rusty's World, some New Times advertisers have been receiving various versions of the above form letter, distributed at Randy Childress' auto mall during his regular Thursday night anti-immigrant gatherings, asking them to pull their ads from our pages because I'm such a horrible fellow. This particular letter, signed by Stephanie Harris of Mothers Against Illegal Aliens, charges that I make fun of disabled veterans. Well, in the singular that might be true. There's one Buffalo chip in particular, a nasty, ill-mannered knave, who continues to earn my scorn. But that's it. Yep, he is a vet as far as I know, but it's really his assholeness I'm lampooning. As far as I'm concerned, no matter how noble his service record may or may not be, it does not excuse his present, extremist activities.
The letter also seeks to make hay out of a series of articles I wrote for this Internet mag Gettingit.com, back when I was a freelancer in La-La Land. Thing is, I really enjoyed writing for Gettingit.com, and I'm quite proud of what I produced for them. As Ms. Harris' form letter attests, my articles for Gettingit.com included such salacious gems as "Pet My Prostate," which was devoted to the, ahem, male G-spot; "Feces of the Rich and Famous," about Countess Cynthia von Buhler's art project collecting the feces of celebs like Howard Stern and Courtney Love; and "Potato Prick Tease," detailing the work of seductive sculptress Pommela de Terre, who carved puds from spuds, and for whom I did indeed model.
But while I'm more than cool with people checking out my previous contributions to journalism, what I find hypocritical is that Rusty Childress himself seems to be a rather randy dood, if we're to judge from his personal site Rustychildress.com, where he details his trips to Mardi Gras in New Orleans with snaps of chicks doffing their tops, and in at least one case, of a lady flashing her cooch. There's also one pic of Rusty with a topless chick tagged "Jamaica Hedonism," an anything-goes resort where swingers get nekkid, party and hook up. Some of these pics are offered for your perusal below.
Now, remember, I don't have any problem with Mr. Childress' ribald romps in N'awlins or elsewhere, or with him sharing his softcore "Girls Gone Wild"-type photos with the world. (Actually, I'm all for it.) But what I find hypocritical is that my own online bawdiness is cited as the reason why advertisers are supposed to pull their ads from New Times, while Mr. Childress' sexual peccadilloes are overlooked by his prudish followers.
In any case, as promised, here are some of Childress' sinful snaps. I've mentioned them before in blog posts, and he's yet to remove them, but I wonder if this time will be different, considering the ginormous contradiction between the sort of anti-Bird letters Childress is allowing to be circulated at his Thursday night prejudice parties, and his own, obvious, snot-nosed-rich-boy sort-of decadence. BTW, the blurring and mild alterations were done by us here at New Times. On Childress' site, there are no such qualms about privacy-intrusion demonstrated.
A Rusty pic from the Big Easy 2002, where three pairs always beats a straight flush.
More from Rusty's 2002 Mardi Gras trip: Censored for your protection. No, really...
At least she wiped: 2002 must've been a very good year for Rusty.
No date on this one, just the caption, "Flash at Close Range."
