Who is that sexy beast? He is sexy right... Don't say no, and thus shoot down my confidence.
Because dat sexy beast, be yours truly. Albeit 23 years ago... My-my, how time flies. Seams like only yesterday that my mom was photographing me in my skivvies.
Can your mom be your erotic camera person? Not sure if that's morally on the up-and-up, or not; but she was on that day.
"Of course it's not on the up-and-up, you pampered moma's boy. No sex symbol gets photographed by their mother, and can reasonably expect a rational adult to to view those pictures as being sexy."
Ah, beg to differ, Miss Ryan. 'Cuz, what if you didn't know that it was mother behind the camera when those pictures were being taken? What if I wasn't so up front and open with you -- and the readers of this blog -- about that fact. The issue at hand remains, was E.C. Henry at age 19 -- what girls would call "sexy". Now put that in there, 'cuz if you're some fag or some Sandusky-ites who ventured on this blog, shut it down homes this conversation isn't for you. E.C. Henry likes the ladies. And he's trying to make a point...
Holy Shit, there he is again. Look at dat! And those legs. O how I hope the ladies like the legs (I've been told I have nice legs)
I'm noticing something else in my retro beefcase showcase; whole latta white goin' on. And since these pictures my boobs have gotten better -- through weight lifting.
Now I don't claim to be a fashion model. But this picture does prove that I was peacocking laa-ong before it cam in vogue in the 2000's. Yeah, my forward sexy was a little ahead of it's original 1989 airing, but then again a lot of great writers are ahead of their times.
Whoa, did I mention writers and sexy in the same sentence! Hup, better put a lid on that one, Ernie! Yes, actually I did, because I'm trying to subtly infuse a point in the mind of the my female viewers; namely, writers can be sexy beasts.
Personally, I think EVERYONE has an erotic side to them. Their are many differerent sides to people; there's the mechanical side: how good you are at fixing things and engineering things. Their is the book-smart side: how much fact one can recite when that's called upon. Their is the social side: how well you do in social situations (a.k.a. how good of a b.s.er you are. And there is the sexy side. Which after these two pictures I have displayed I have. Now lets move on...
Holy shit -- their's another one! And just look at that gent this time. All sitting on his cute tushie. (Please tell me I have a cute tushie, I don't think I could go on if you didn't reaffirm my bottoms-up side)
The crux of this picture is: I'm ready to get to know you, girl. So get in your skivvies too, and lets have a heart-to-heart -- without my mother in the room!!
"Well, I like the fact you call it, pea cocking. Based on what I'm seeing in this pictures, I'd hafta say -- at least you got that right."
Thanks, Meg. BUT if me dancing and prancing about in my skivvies, and being the butt of your jokes makes you happy, then I'm happy. Why? Because I'm a writer. Not just a beefcake sex symbol, immortalized forever my mother, the one-day male-lingerie photographer extraordinaire. AND as a romatic comedy writer one of my biggest obligations is to make the girl happy. Do whatever it takes to set them at ease and know that the story I've written was written to bring some joy into their life. My beefcake pictures are merely eye candy for your viewing pleasure. I figure, tit for tat. I like looking at beautiful girls. And turnabout is fair play. Now I would NEVER publicize on my blog risque photographs of you, Meg Ryan, or any other actress I would like to work with. The fact of the matter is, I respect women. I like women. I TRY to view women as princesses. And of all the princesses out there, Meg, you'd defiantly be in my top 10 of damsels in distress that I would like to rescue up in the castle.
"O E.C. how you do TRY to say the right thing to a girl. But please don't handle your pen too much when you're out pea cocking about in your short shorts -- with your mother watching!"
Ouch, now you're being hurtful, Meg. Even sexy people can have their feeling hurt. Just try to remember, I can do cool -- and sexy -- at the same time.
"O yeah. I'd like to see that."
Fine, Meg. Here's my forth and final beefcake picture. Something for your noodle to consider...
E.C. Henry: writer/sex symbol. Cool and sophisticated -- Tom Cruise doesn't have jack shit on me! "Risky Business" indeed!
I hope you've enjoyed this post. I got the idea for it, when my mom was going through photographs to mail out to our extended family and friends for this years Christmas gift packages -- and NO these beefcake photographs aren't part of those packages. My mom just reminded me that we still had this pictures, and I, then with my overly creative mind, decided to use them as the crux of a blog post.
Have I changed THAT much in 23 years? No, not really. I'm still pretty much the same man I was then, it's just now I've done away with the curly hair in the back, and I now have a mustache.
- E.C. Henry from Bonney Lake, WA
Sorry for not posting on a more regular basis. I've been working a lot lately, AND my shoulders are still on-and-off again sore. Am probably going to see a doctor about that this week.
What's up next for yours truly? Well-p, still working on that pesky dark, urban drama. Can't wait to be rid of that story. Too dark a place for me. Don't want to stay there. Though getting into my characters is ALWAYS a joy. Even if they take you to a dark place. It's getting to know someone who is genuinely different then yourself. And my female lead protagonist is a sexually charged women... So MAYBE this post was a variant of her. I can only hope...
Got LOTS of other stories I'm dying to start writing. Happier stories. Not the pro-Christian stories that my mom and aunt would like me to write. BUT a teen comedy with a space bend to it, and a teen coming-of-age robbers flick set just east of the Cascades are a long time coming. Can't wait to get to them. Lots to do gang. I am a writer with MUCH, MUCH more to stay. Keep tuning in...
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