I just had to post these photos of the Versace manse. Wow. Photos don't do it justice. And it IS completely over the top, but the craftsmanship, design and intricacy of every cranny in this place is just amazing. HG took A LOT of photos, so here's roll two.

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Ahh, Facebook. Facebook and breast cancer are proving to be the most beneficial things for my career in ages. Through a real-life friend and a Facebook friend, I found myself auditioning for a national TV commercial this morning.

It's for a product that aids in breast self-examinations, which I always found difficult to do. I always had lumpy boobage. I found my lump by accident, in the shower. When I was approached for this spot, I figured what the hell. I'm all about raising awareness. It does pay, but I would certainly donate a portion to cancer research. I wasn't nervous. In fact, while I used to have major anxiety walking into unfamiliar situations, the cancer kind of eliminated that.

Now I'm off to tour the former Versace Mansion, the site of his murder a little more than 11 years ago--holy fuck I'm old. Now the structure is called Casa Casuarina. It's a private club, resort and event space. I don't know if I've spoken about Gianni Versace before, but he was one of my early artistic influences. His designs in the early 90s and late 80s made me see fashion for the art it is. One of my friends who grew up in the city was my Versace-obsessed partner in crime. In fact, we met at a summer program at the University of Michigan by bonding over the genius that was Versace. I remember exactly where I was when I heard the news of his crazy murder. Gainesville, Florida summer session at UF, in my apartment.

All my Versace clothes are either too big or too worn out, so I *really* can't honor him as I would like.

And have I also mentioned that I gave one of his close relatives her first bong hit years ago? One of my proudest moments.