Sentences

Tits McGee National Monument.
Brooklyn, New York - June 2006


The myth of George Jefferson.
These freaking stupid idiots.
Hang up and drive you guinea.
Mild vengeance furious anger.
Waiting for the midnight hos.
Art Bakely or the Messengers.
Stan Getz: First man on Moon.
So I told Phelps to fuck off.
Finally a man with some peas.
A new measurement of boredom.
Clerks II: Got no more ideas.
They gave me a vegemite soda.
http://29search.jimkelly.be/.
Apologize to my unborn child.
All the oat bran you can eat.
She's my best friend for eva.
I spent Saturday at Busy Bee.
Here's how to throw a slider.
A woman with a burning ficus.
Oops I just ate all the weed.
You know he needs a manicure.
No kids no iPod no SUV loser.
You too can knock up a chick.
Honey I had to crash the car.
When I woke up I was a Padre.
The ballad of Gary Templeton.
A time traveler with no time.
Curiously strong kryptonites.
FBI: Female Boobie Inspector.
Kelly finally shuts his trap.
The sum of five and fourteen.
Canon Powershot S-eighty-one.
Geez I look just like a dame.
But I've got some nice tatas.
No Jesus no Free Beer Friday.
The late great Gregory Branx.
More email from Senator Keri.
Diapers get me a diaper stat.
Nurse this is a Philips head.
Too much gay not enough pork.
Grandmaster Flash kills Five.

8:33am

Stan Getz: First man on Moon.
New York, New York - July 2006

It's shaping up to be one of those days when I want to just go someplace with a pitcher of cheap beer, a stack of quarters, and a Ms. Pac Man machine.

It's barely 8:30 in the morning, and I'm done. I've given all I can to my job today that I can. If it's not project managers who accuse me of not doing my job, CCing my boss and the VP of my department, if it's not having to fill out paperwork in triplicate so that I can leave 45 minutes early one day, and make up the time the next, it's something else, and here, at 8:33, I'm spent.

But I'm listening to Art Blakey and his Jazz Messengers (New Window), so once the caffeine kicks in, it'll be ok.

-=-

I took the above photo with the brand new Canon Powershot S80 (New Window) that Tanja strong-armed me into buying last week. Actually, it was more of a push from the soon-to-be paternal grandparent's, but she was there, off to the side in her top hat and tails, twirling her handlebar moustache with a sort of "Bwuhahahahahaha!" tone the whole time.

I didn't want to enjoy getting this camera, afterall I hate digital. It's just not as good, and no one can tell me otherrwise, and I grumbled about it to the salesman who sold it to me, even as I was asking for it. "No one's using film anymore," he told me, as I screamed to myself "I am! Lots of people are!" but I figured the middle of B&H was the wrong place to make a scene.

As it happens, though, I'm enojoying the camera quite a lot. I was intimidated by it at first. I was intimidated by the close to 300 pages of instruction manuals, manuals whose "warnings" sections are longer than the entire manuals I'm used to reading. As I started using it, though, learning my way around its interface, and seeing what I can do with it, I started to get comfortable with it. It's fun. Dare I say, I kind of like it.

It's not as good as film. No way. I can tell which photos I took with it and which are on film, mostly because I remember, but the it's nice to be able to snap off a shot here and there and just be done with it. One things for sure, I won't be off learning tons of mad new Photoshop skillz so I can become a photo-editing ninja. There's no excitement in that for me.

But I've reached a bit of an understanding with this camera, and that's good enough for now. It'll get us both through those first few photos of the baby.

And, when the novelty wears off, I've got my brand new Yashica Mat 124 (New Window).