The people we bought our house from had a three-foot photo-oil painting of the wife in her wedding gown hanging above the master bed.

Maybe one or the other (or both) of them has a wedding gown fetish.

Cute, msbelle.

Oh, cropped to just you? Maybe it counts. But probably there's some technicality I haven't thought of yet that disqualifies, because it doesn't make me want to mock you.

We knew some people who had a HUGE nude of the wife in the livingroom over the fireplace.

I'm sliding down in my cube for the express purpose of laughing at the horror I would feel at this. Unless it was a cubist painting or something.

I don't have problems with how I look -- I'm just averse to looking.

I have a framed caricature of myself at home, but I'm not sure if I'd display it if it weren't a farewell card from good friends.

Oh, cropped to just you? Maybe it counts. But probably there's some technicality I haven't thought of yet that disqualifies

Maybe that she made it all artistic and stuff? That's the justification I had for the picture of me dancing.

Unless it was a cubist painting or something.

If only. I think I first encountered it when I was 12 or so. Gaped. Sure, they were granola-hippy-crunchy-quasi-nudist (basically when the retreat didn't have outside guests) but STILL.

Here is what's on my desktop. [link] I don't mind being mocked for it because I like it. It should be said that were it a cheesy Olan Mills type job it would not be my desktop unless I'd done some seriously cool stuff to in in Photoshop.

My cousin sat topless for a portrait for a local artist. Her fiance ended up buying the painting. I think she wanted him to buy it because she is pretty vain. It's a good portrait, but I wouldn't want a painting of my boobies in my own house.

The people we bought our house from had a three-foot photo-oil painting of the wife in her wedding gown hanging above the master bed.

I didn't know Ayn Rand had owned a home in the Bay Area!

I feel like I should remember when my brother was born -- I was three and two months -- but I don't. I remember a few things from being three and four, like preschool, and learning how to read, but I don't really remember my brother until he was old enough to play with.

Also, my work desktop is a repeating orange pattern that came as a default with the Mac. I keep meaning to change it, but I keep not doing so. Inertia rules my world. At home, I have a picture of All That You Can't Leave Behind-era U2.

My wallpaper is a photo of my siblings, at work. At home, it is still a photo from the Red Sox winning the World Series, because I have not gotten around to changing it.