Last night, while dreaming and still half awake, I woke Toby Joe up from an obvious slumber.
Take the money from the lens you almost bought me and buy yourself that camera bag.
I rolled over and drifted off to sleep again.
There are 14 hours in the night for watching movies and sleeping.
What did you say?
I heard only the old familiar ringing from my left ear. What the hell did he just say? I couldn’t figure out what that had to do with a camera bag. What’s he building in there?
Are you asleep?
Silence. And so I began to count back from 8 a.m.
camera bags are for amateurs.
I am an amateur. I don’t get flown all over the country to put on a monkey suit and shoot weddings like you do, sucka.
I wonder how your Nokton did at a wedding – given that it’s clinically sharp, and most wedding stuff is all soft and glowy.
i shot that wedding barefoot in cut-off jeans and a pbr tshirt. who’s the sucka now?
it is my understanding that you only get the ‘flaming’ merit badge after committing to vegetarianism.
I love my alive, flaming husband.
flaming hippie lover.
somebody sort of reminds me of a suess character in that picture,
I love those weird late night, half awake conversations. Once, Scott and I were sleeping, all curled up together, and he said loudly (still sleeping) “We are a scary octupus!”
It still cracks me up.