I saw a Boobie

When I left the house this morning I had no idea I'd be treated to a full on shot of frontal nudity. But I was. And I'm here to gloat about it.

I live across the street from the Culver City Veterans Center, where every year some Body Building Organization stages their annual Beauty Contest. They probably call it something else. But nevertheless it is a beauty pageant. Albeit on steroids.

As this woman was getting bronzed by her entourage, her turquoise bikini top snapped around her neck like a just released rubber band. Treating me and the other slack jawed aliens to a good look at 'the girls.'

I say aliens for effect because the body building world truly is a subculture onto its own.

I came in close contact with this unique society when I was working at Chiat/Day/Mojo in Venice Beach. Our building literally butted up against the famed Gold's Gym, Mecca of the Muscle World. In fact, in good neighborly fashion, the owners at Gold's offered Chiat employees membership for an unheard $10 a month.

Foolishly I took them up on the offer. And quickly found myself out of my element. I knew my stay at Gold's was short lived when one day I was minding my own business and struggling to bench press 225 lbs. As I was feeling the burn and ready to rack the bar, a guy the size of a tool shed with a chin that looked like a bookshelf, got right up in my face.

"Give me three more. Come on, you can do this. Just three more. I'm right here give it to me. GIVE IT TO ME!!!"

He screamed at the top of his artificially inflated lungs as if the fate of the world depended on it.

It didn't.