progress report.

they're a growin'...

unmotivated.

it's too pretty out.

stink eye for the stink guy

so i was at red door east on sunday night and a guy wearing a tank top came up and put his arm around me. first off, strike one for wearing a tank top.
so his bare, wet pit met my bare shoulder. "ehhh" i thought. i blew it off-- it's summer--we're all a little sticky...even though i don't know him well enough to have his pit sweat on me, i forgave. the whiskey forgave.
so i move on, later noticing this lingering raunchy BO stank and even knowing my pits could never produce such filth, my first reaction is to lift my own arm and take a sniff. Mountain Rain Fresh, just like the container says. so i smell my shoulder. there it is. the culprit. the tank-top-clad stranger's armpit residue. "what the fuck" i say aloud to present company. "i didn't ask for this". i look at him across the deck with an evil stare, watching him spread his offensive juices to innocent happy folks, unaware that they too were about to be "pitted". what does one do in this situation?...no no...not go to the bathroom and try to wash it off. my genius, whiskey-soaked-been-at-the-lake-all-day brain thinks..."more whiskey". it is, after all, a cure-all. so i ask my friend to pour whiskey on my shoulder. he obliges, rubbing it in good with a napkin. GUESS WHAT? it didn't work.

the moral of this story is, never waste precious whiskey on your friends skin, no matter how stinky she is.

memorial day...dirty south style.

this set is rated pg-13 for adult content, adult language, light drugs, violence and multiple boob grabs.
Memorial Day 2008 - Center Hill

forcing kitters to love me.

i like a good quote.

"I feel like there is a thin net of advil that has caught me and is holding me two inches over a hangover."
-ja

walking back from lunch....

i saw an explosion of chiclets on the sidewalk.
and i can't get rid of this "dreamy" effect on my camera phone.

nothing's happening.....

so here's mrs rita lottye kitters. in all her russian glory. thanks to april, her iphone, and her constant pestering of this smoky gray being.
lake this weekend. there will be blood. stories. photos. and prolly a new complex caves song. "the center hill sessions".

muted

Nat's got a good eye.

for instance...

there's a certain dissatisfaction I get from instant gratification. in photography. in general. i feel like everything is so easy. so done for us. where's the imagination? where's the waiting? since when did waiting for something so good, become so bad?
so let us generalize, for space sake, one area. photography. maybe it's because i was a photography major in the days of film. forced to get dirty. my chemical-soaked hands reeking of "photo lab" everyday for 4 years....one can wonder.
don't get me wrong. i love the simplicity of a digital point & shoot. the portability. the unimaginable number of photographs it can hold. but there's nothing like waiting. viewing a contact sheet of half mediocre shots...amazed, because you forgot. you forgot that expression. you forgot how green the grass was. you forgot how you felt the moment you captured that image. until now. looking at that contact sheet.
lately i've been craving my old school ways and pulled out the old Yashica 120mm. the images are mediocre. if digital, the lighting could be perfected. everything perfect. instant. no human flaw. i look at these images and instantly get rushed with the good feelings that come with them. a friend, truly happy. a great companion. but i had to wait for it.

the Humpstress got hitched...

congrats kelli & ryan.
now you can live in the south the "right" way.
not in sin. dirty, dirty, sin.

I just want someone to buy me this book.....

der garten

planted the garden on thursday.
4 tomaters.
2 jalepenos.
1 ceyenne.
2 zuccini.
2 eggplant.
1 basil.
cucumbers coming.
herbs to come, with the help of April P.

doesn't it look so lush and fruitful??????

sweet balls of dotty.....