"Why are you looking at me like that?" She asked.
"I smell something," I said.
"Did you just fart?"
"No, I didn't just fart."
"Well, I smell something."
"It's not me and I resent the implication."
"The implication that I would just sit here and fart and not say anything."
"You fart all the time. It's practically your trademark."
"I don't fart without you knowing about it."
"You never sneak one out and hope it goes unoticed?"
"Yes you do."
"No I don't. When have I ever just farted without saying something?"
"How would I know? The whole point is for me not to know."
"Listen, I resent this idea you have that I'm just walking around farting all the time and not telling you. I don't do that, I don't just fart everywhere, I don't Dutch Oven..."
"Whoa, whoa! Dutch Oven? You can't compare the two. That's like comparing a stink bomb to napalm. Just because you never did one doesn't mean you don't do the other."
"You know me. I can't keep a straight face when I fart."
"I know you can't keep a straight face when you get caught farting. Not the same thing."
"I resent this entire conversation."
"I'm just saying there is no way that you are going to convince me that you don't fart sometimes without saying something."
"Then you're the only one on the planet."
Well, I have a website so I must be serious. http://www.boorayperry.com/ is now the official home for all my photography endeavors. I think the site has turned out nice and does a good job of showcasing what I can do.
Now is the time to schedule me for work because I am cheap. Currently I'm not charging a sitting fee and the print price will eventually go up as well. I'm trying to build a portfolio so anyone who uses me now gets a great deal. I need more kids and family portraits and would love some senior portrait work as well.
"Daddy, will you put Elmo on the big TV?" Sam asked.
"I will after Mac is finished with her lunch," I replied.
"No, that's not a deal!"
"Well, if you would prefer, I could just not but Elmo on at all..."
"You have to make me happy."
Why is it that movies feel they simply must ignore all of the basic laws of physics in order to be successful? I can understand the rationalization that a super-hero movie requires a certain suspension of belief, but it seems that the people who make these movies feel that they must suspend belief every single opportunity that they get. They push it and push it until the whole thing just becomes a silly made-for-TV movie.
My current favorite tactic is one that I saw in Iron Man, as well as the Fantastic Four. Let me make it clear for the record that I don't care how smart a scientist you are, it is impossible to build a new technology..... that no one has ever built before.... in your garage.... in a week. Iron man's armor, the Fantastic Four's flying car, the list goes on and on. i don't care that you're a genius and have a case of red Bull, you aren't going to reinvent the wheel in a week and even if you could, you won't be able to build it that fast. If you want us to believe that the people in these movies are truly exceptional because of their amazing powers. it would help if you would make the rest of the world ordinarily mundane. In iron Man, the bad guy built a suit of armor to rival the heroes suit in, I think, a weekend. Imagine what he could have done had he taken an entire week.
It's the little things that bother me the most. For example, in the Fantastic Four, Reed Richards had to build these four devices that they would use to capture the Silver Surfer. When they went to deploy these devices, they each had custom made steel cases with little tripod legs that popped out. Seriously, you're racing to save the world and yet you have time to design and build special pop-out legs? Of course not, it should look like it was thrown together in a hurry because it was thrown together in a hurry!
Oh, and here's another thing: if you take a human being and you throw them 30 feet across a room and slam them into a wall, they will not get up. Not now and not ever. Yet, in every single movie, people get thrown about, like so much chicken feed, only to rise back up as is if they merely stubbed their toe walking up the driveway. I once fell down two steps. TWO! I needed a week in bed and a morphine drip before I felt normal again.
Wait, that reminds me of another thing. How come whenever big things crash in these movies, they never kill any innocent bystanders? You really think you can crash a jet in the middle of a busy Tokyo street and not kill a single person? Seriously? It's just stupid.
I know that this little rant is just making me seem like a super nerd, which I really am, but it just frustrates me that Hollywood feels they must resort to cartoon violence in every single movie that they make.
"You can't wear those shoes, baby."
"Because they don't match your clothes."
"They match my hair."
"No, they don't. You have brown hair and those shoes are black."
"They match your hair..."
Last Friday I got a chance to play in a golf tournament. Bobbi took the day off from work to stay home and watch the girls. As fate would have it, there was no school that day so Lisa dropped Kirsten off at the house and she spent the day playing with Sam and Mac.
A short while before I left to play in the tournament I sat down in the living room to play my guitar. (Editor's note: I use the term "living room" lightly because I'm not really sure what the area at the front of our house is called. We have an open floor plan which means there really are no walls separating any of the rooms, so the family room melds with the kitchen which melds with the living room and the dining room and a small area that I really think was just left over when they built the house. We call that the "piano area" because the previous owners had a piano there. Bobbi wants to turn it into another sitting area while I would like to turn it into a bar. That, in a nutshell, describes the difference between Bobbi and I.)
I was looking at this picture tonight and it occurred to me that it says a lot about what it's like to live in our house:
1. We have no furniture. Actually, we have some furniture. We have the important stuff like beds, a dining room table, big screen TV, stripper pole and sex swing. What we don't have is furniture in the living room (or the piano area for that matter). What furniture we do have, like wall decorations and my grandmother's mantle for example, we cannot be bothered to actually hang on the walls. Our house is decorated to resemble the inside of a storage shed. If we could just park a dolly in the corner the look would be complete.
2. Tidiness is not our strong suit. We really have no boundaries in the house when it comes to the girls playing with their toys. You can walk anywhere in our home, from the laundry room to the master bathroom, and step on something that came in a Happy Meal. This stems from the fact that despite our children having decent sized rooms, that space is nothing compared to the rest of the house. They like to run and dance and play and I don't have the heart to make them do it in the small space that remains in their room after you put in the bed, the dresser and the sweat box for when they've been unruly with the warden.
3. There's a lot of dancing. Whenever I play my guitar the girls immediately break into dance. At least it starts as a dance and soon evolves into sort of a high speed chase around the room with much giggling and posing and falling down. This picture perfectly illustrates any given moment during a typical guitar performance.
I'm so sick of this story. What a joke. Can we first all agree that this is not a "topless" photo?
This is, in fact, a "backless' photo. I've been squinting at the damn thing for days now (as it has appeared on every website on the planet) and yet I still can't see a nipple, or ass-crack, or reverse cowgirl, or dirty sanchez... no matter how long I look at it. In fact, I don't even find it sexy. What makes it a good picture (as is to be expected from Annie Leibowitz) is that it doesn't immediately make clear it's intent. Is she sexy? Is she innocent? I see a little classical art vibe as well, like a women in a Rembrandt painting or some renaissance fresco depicting a biblical scene (Annie purposely invokes this by de-saturating the image). Sometimes I just see a young girl who just woke up, rumpled and matted with bad breath. I'll tell you what I don't see though, I don't see a sex object. This picture doesn't turn me on.
Now, this picture. Hmm, if she wasn't underage... strapless, short skirt..
....hey, is she showing her back? If she would just move her arm we might see a little side-boob...
The whole thing is a joke. Having your picture taken by Annie Leibowitz for Vanity Fair is an honor. The people who handle Miley and have sunk to their base instincts when judging this photograph should be ashamed of themselves.