Chris Illuminati is a freelance writer and contributor to such popular websites and magazines as Ask Men, Asylum and Penthouse and has had articles on Cosmo, Maxim, AOL Health and MSN Money.
He is the co-author of The A**holeology: The Science Behind Getting Your Way - and Getting Away with It and the sole author of the follow-up A**holeology: The Cheat Sheet.
Yes, it's his real last name. It's written in black Sharpie on the inside of his underwear as proof.
[That concludes the third person portion of this blog]
This Tumblr is just a place to put all the random thoughts, pics and stuff in my head that doesn't fit anywhere else.
Reach me via email at cilluminati [@] gmail [dot] com
My Other Tumblr
Catching Elephant is a theme by Andy Taylor
Leveling the Playing Field
My latest Penthouse article, complete with a cartoon picture of me.
You’ve Obviously Never Met My Mother
This might just be the way to get disowned forever.
“Happy Mother’s Day Mom! I got you Wayan’s Brothers tickets!”
KICK TO THROAT. STOMPED UNTIL UNCONSCIOUS.
Do you imagine Sir Elton, Dionne, Stevie and the leader of the Pips had any idea of the lobotomy of a ditty they were creating while in studio laying down the tracks for “That’s What Friends Are For?” A song to forever haunt the world and ruin usually joyous occasions such as weddings, proms and the First Masturbation Of The Year festivities (First Masturbation Of The Year is oddly held throughout the year, usually after those weird moments when a guy swears he’ll never choke up on his pocket pool stick again and caves after a few days and one rather graphic episode of Cops.)
I think they knew exactly what they were doing. The singers, not the masturbators, (though if you listen to the song close enough it’s tough to tell them apart) and they laugh about it every year while cashing a huge royalty paycheck. Sir Elton finds it especially humorous and usually blows all the money on licorice and bedazzled Snuggies that claim “Saturday Night’s Alright For F*cking.”
I might be incorrect.
My presentation on blogging and self promotion
(click article for a better view)
This is an article about a recent presentation I gave at Princeton Public Library about blogging and self promotion.
Sorry for the scan but my local newspaper doesn’t put all of its stories online because this is 2011 and they still aren’t sure this whole internet thing is going to catch on.
Photographs And Memories
I used to take family pictures out of the frames and replace them with the original photos that came with the frame. My family always left them behind pictures of weddings, birthdays and random moments that prove we grew up Catholic. I’m not sure if they planned on returning the frame one day or they just felt bad throwing out photos of such good looking people. It would often take months for anyone to notice the switch.
At the time I found it hysterical. I’d make up stories about the fake people in the photos and tell them to friends. “Oh, that’s my cousin Vincent. He is on a soap opera. He is the son of this woman, Ramona, who’s first husband invented the Oreo cookie. It’s funny because Vincent used to be super fat. He ate Oreos for every meal. He quit cold turkey one day and got real thin and lost all the weight. Why are their prices on the pictures? That’s because he sells them to fans. Want to see my parents Joy of Sex book?”
There are three framed photos in my house; one of my son, one of my Permanent Roommate and I when we were dating, a photo of me, my father-in-law and brother-in-law standing on the steps of a gorgeous house at the Jersey shore that none of us own. Each one serves a purpose; the one of my son is to help us remember him as a baby because it won’t last, the picture of the two of us to remember when we were younger, thinner and had nothing to do in life but look young and thin and the last picture is to motivate us to one day own our own house at the beach to pose in front of. Until then we’ll rent a house and pretend it’s ours for a week.
I often wonder the point of having numerous. family photos scattered around the house. I visit some friends and it’s almost as if they live in a photo album. Pictures take up every free space on the wall, fridge and coffee table. I think they just hit a point where they had to keep including distance relatives because they didn’t want to offend anyone that might come over. “There is Aunt Lonnie. That was taken on her wedding day. She really brings together the furniture in this living room. Her flowers match most pieces from Ikea.”
The Permanent Roommate also leaves the free photos in the frames. Occasionally, I’ll swap out the picture of her family and I for the photo that came with the frame. I don’t do it because I find it funny anymore, but because the people in the fake picture have a much nicer beach house.
Jesus would make the ultimate contestant on The Bachelor ever. Here is why:
He is rugged and ripped - Before Extreme Home Makeover and HGTV, Jesus was the hot carpenter in town. He is rugged, always naturally tan and really good with his hands. There is no household dilemma he can’t solve. Some people even say he can do miracles with a saw.
He brings unlimited wine - Nothing worse than when a group date gets going and they are all out of the Pinot Noir. BOOM! Jesus saves (the party). Speaking of group dates…
The Last Supper proves he is great on group dates - If he can handle splitting the check with twelve men there is nothing he can’t accomplish.
His parents made it work - The women on the Bachelor always have a big concern: is the Bachelor serious about marriage? Let’s look at JC’s parents. Real dad lives all the way up in heaven. Mom lives in Jerusalem. Mom also lives with another guy but JC’s dad is totally cool with that and the other guy is totally cool with JC’s heavenly father. Jesus has great examples living home and afar.
Fantastic with children - He doesn’t just want to hang out with kids, he wants them brought onto him. Little creepy, but at least he wants a family.
Ability to walk on hot tub water - Seals the deal every time.
Name That Tumor
(song playing from my computer)
My dad: “Who sang that song? That’s from my era.”
Me: “Test your knowledge. You guess.”
My dad: “Hmmmmm was that Brook Benton?”
Me: “No”
My dad: “Ok. Let me think.” (walks away)
(yells from down the hall)
My dad: “Was it Brook Benton?”
Me: “YOU JUST SAID THAT!!!!”
