So. My fingernails. They’re red. Bright red. Incredibly fucking red. I have incredibly fucking red fingernails. I’m typing this with fingers that have incredibly fucking red nails. It’s really distracting.
Last night, during the fourth quarter of the Super Bowl, while it looked like San Francisco might actually make a comeback, I had my fingernails painted incredibly fucking red. The actual shade of red, according to the label on the bottle, is Siren. No, I’m not making that up. Siren. Also on the label is a warning:
Avoid Heat and Flame
For all I know, Heat and Flame may be other shades of red. And if they’re redder than Siren, you can bet your ass I’ll avoid them. But I assume the manufacturers of Siren are actually warning me NOT to put the bottle of fingernail polish in a fire. I hadn’t even considered putting the bottle in a fire — not until they told me NOT to. Now it seems like it might be an interesting experiment.
why yes, my fingernails ARE incredibly fucking red
You may be wondering why I had my fingernails Sirenized. I got to confess, there were moments when I wonder that my ownself. I did it for an Iron Photographer photo. I have discussed the IP process before. I can’t even begin to tell you about the phenomenally stupid shit I’ve done for Iron Photographer photographs. I need to point out that Iron Photographer is about creating artful photographs, not about doing stupid shit. But it’s surprising how often the process involves some degree of stupid shit.
This time it involved Siren. And a shovel. Seriously, it always makes sense while you’re putting the photo together. It’s only when you look at it afterwards that you begin to ask yourself “What the HELL was I thinking?”
Now I have to figure out how to remove this incredibly fucking red nail polish before I can leave the house. Or answer the door (I have an order of Thin Mints scheduled to be delivered and I do NOT want to have Siren-red nails when I’m handing over some cash to the poor innocent Girl Scout. Or her mother).
gregfallis.com 
You could just explain that you’re exploring your feminine side…
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I’ve been noodling with an idea using nail polish, but it pales in comparison. Dammit.
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John, I’m torn between encouraging you to use nail polish and warning you against it. That shit is HARD to get off. I’ve just spent the last 30 minutes with a bottle of nail polish remover, trying to get my nails back to normal. They’re still an off-shade of pink — though I’m thinking they’ll pass so long as nobody takes a close look at them.
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Greg, that photo is eerily disturbing my sense of balance; strange but quite memorable and somehow, beautiful. Simple nail polish remover will do the trick pronto.
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Sweet Jody, maybe I don’t know the appropriate technique, but nail polish remover hasn’t done the entire trick. And it stinks.
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I think you look amazing… I love that in no way does it take away from your maleness or your intensity, instead I think, like anything honest it amplifies all of that in an amazing way.
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I had NO idea it would be so distracting. You sit down at the computer, and there are these bright red thumbnails flashing in front of you. You open a jar of Nutella, and it looks like your fingers are bleeding. It’s damned disconcerting. I suppose you get used to it after a while, but lawdy.
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I was going to say the same thing melissa did, but a lot less eloquently. Downright sexy, I think.
FYI, you might want to get yourself some nail polish remover (acetone, also not to be used near heat of flame. Being a woman is dangerous business) sooner rather than later… the longer red polish is on your nails, the more likely your nails will have a yellow tinge for a while afterwards. Unless you thought to put a coat or two of clear polish on your nails beforehand…
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Next time I’ll know to put on a coat of clear pol…wait. No, I’m never doing this again. Ever. It’s a HUGE pain in the ass. It never occurred to me that you have to let the polish DRY. So I spent a half hour or so with my hands in the air like I was under arrest. Or attending a tent revival. Madness.
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Fortunately you don’t chew your nails; that would’ve looked REALLY disturbing… a la, “It puts on the lotion or it gets the hose…”
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Your mind is a very odd and somewhat frightening place. I like that about you.
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Red nails that catch your eye and are very distracting? Keeping you from going about your day? Now you know how women feel when we wonder how much of a bother it would be to have testicles.
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So I’m not the only one, Jolene?!
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Jolene, if a guy gets distracted by his own testicles, then he’s doing it wrong.
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Heat and Flame would make good second and third name. I adore your dedication but question the color selection. On the other hand it matches your blog theme. Coincidence?
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Martin, this is far from the stupidest thing I’ve done in the name of Iron Photographer. And I chose the nail polish color to match the shovel. Doesn’t everybody?
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the portrait? amazing! the polish? reds are the toughest – go to the dollar store and buy the most acetone-filled shit you can find. that should do the trick!
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You passed the test I used to give prospective life partners to prove they were willing to show support for women and gays. It also shows that some men are not afraid to challenge stereotypes.
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