Dreamt of a zombie apocalypse. I kept stabbing people with curtain rods and wood paddles.
Ugh, why do I dream about this nonsense?
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It's just a damn shame that song is so crappy. My second 7B head died. I fired my first test flash and with a loud POP the little guy just doesn't work the way it should. The model light works fine, but the flash needed to exert the light I need isn't syncing with the pack. Essentially, a dead head. ![]() ![]() My skin's not correct, but...that's the light I'm using for my shoot tomorrow. One trusty head, beauty dish and 25 degree comb. I will not- I refuse to die. This would have stopped me before, it's not stopping me tonight or tomorrow... I'll figure out to the two-head job tomorrow. I will survive. As I did a quick retouch to be considered for a job, I thought I'd watch True Life on MTV. Their focus was on competitve eating, with a focus on Nathan's Hot Dog Eating contest. They followed Takeru Kobayashi, a professional eater's journey leading up to the contest. Damn near everything can be improved by adding Eric Prydz's Pjanoo to it. Original: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=llfNRGQ7 Good night. This is a slice of what I was listening to in December of 2004. Enjoy. The best songs usually involve women or drugs. This one talks about both... I spent last night in fabulous company at Barramundi. Proof that my knowledge of hidden NYC is slipping, I confused it with Tapeo 29, where I met a client once. Turns out it was for the best. The bar's iTunes blasted some fabulous tunes [My Bloody Valentine, Siouxie and the afore linked Stranglers], and the atmosphere was that perfect, near-empty dark bar. Of course, catching up with Russ was the icing on the cake. Anyways, nights like these make me miss NYC hardcore. I walked through the LES for a while before making it to the bar and I loved the fact it was a near-secret part of Manhattan. I had a client who lived in the area for a short time [he was holed up in a small rental on Clinton St., writing a script...romantic, huh?] and I dug the small apartments, the even smaller places to hide... I'm having a tough time elaborating this morning, but, the struggle to get back home breaks my heart. I've been in Jersey for four years and it's been four years too long. Anyways...happy Tuesday. There was once a time I coveted a dress like the belted beauty [third photo down]. If you were around for Memorial Day, you saw this: ![]() Here's the reason why: This is an interview with the director and star of the film that James produced earlier this year. I shot the production stills [which are peppered throughout this clip] as well as photos that were used within the film [my first venture through compositing in p-shop can be seen here, too]. If you look closely, you can see my sweet self with my throat slashed in a 'cuzzi. Reading the first few chapters of Wally Lamb's _She's Come Undone_ is bad, bad for that creeping depression thing I've got going on. I finally picked up my copies of ETA, the print-on-demand mag I was published in a few months ago. Late to the game, and possibly counter-productive, but hey, better late than never. As it's POD, copies are VERY MUCH AVAILABLE! :) Pick up a few and enjoy the joys of print! Coilhouse has this nifty post on social issues on Sesame Street over it's 40 year run. This weekend has taught me, in the nicest way possible, that I need to appreciate what I DO have. Not get too comfy, always look forward, but to retrain myself to at least be *truly* thankful. New phone and a fresh chance to clean up my Address book. If you think I should have your number, message me. Give me all those juicy details that Blackberries require, or at least, parts that you feel the need to feed the Blackberry. Thank ya. Last night I dreamt I ordered a parfait. It was blue and pink and with all that creamy yoghurt goodness on top. I just walked into a Starbucks to kill some time before meeting a friend and lo and behold, they are selling that pink and blue parfait of my dreams. I am eating it right now and it's delicious. I doubt I'm going to get much done out here, but what the hey, it's worth a shot. ![]() Lynn Cohen from Sex in the City. She was reading as part of Barefoot Theatre's Project 10, a 10th-year celebration of the company. The name of the scene she was reading escapes me*, but the gist was that she was a cat lady, giving in a monlogue during the search for one of her cats. I was about two inches away from her when I shot this. Moments later, she pressed her forhead against mine and called me her puss puss puss... Theatre is awesome. *Israel Horovitz's _Cat Lady_ http://www.bloomberg.com/apps/news?p I thought I'd goof around and try to find my old online journals. I've come to the conclusion that my Deadjournal account has just been wiped from the system. The earliest records of me can be found on a very public Blurty account. ![]() That, my friends, was a banner for a webring dedicated to Voltaire. I made that when I was 16 or 17. A fucking banner for a WEBRING. I'm afraid that a further probe will turn up my Geocities or Tripod accounts. I better stop here. Christ, I'm old in internet years... |
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