I love Ray Bradbury. I love his writing, I love his stories, I love his personality and contributions to the culture I so enjoy. Today would have been his 96th birthday, so I'd like to take a moment and appreciate this fantastic motherfucker. My favorite story of Ray Bradbury is how he saved Playboy. The magazine was struggling and Hugh Hefner cold called Bradbury to ask for permission to publish some of his stories. Bradbury granted it and allowed them to print a run of Fahrenheit 451, which helped boost sales and essentially saved what the titan of pornography and fine literature.
There are two stacks of Ray Bradbury books in my room - the nice copies and the beat up ones. The second pile is covered in glitter and bite marks, has pages falling out of some from one too many spankings. These are the ones I use for my Fuck Me, Ray Bradbury act, which was one of my earliest numbers and stays a favorite. It's perky and fun and sexualizes intelligence.
So happy birthday, Mr. Bradbury! I'll raise a glass of dandelion wine in your honor. Until then, enjoy this image from Justin McConnell Photography that I took a few years back.