Killing Machines

So Sunday, my brother and I went to some place around where he lives and took some new head shots. He knows some good places because he looks for things like that. He's so cool. Anyway, he tells me he lives in the bad part of town and seems like he doesn't want me to come to his place to get him. Guess what. He lives where houses are a little bit more run down, and crime happens, but nothing happened to us. Not by where he lives any way. So he takes me a few blocks away from where he lives and parks his car under some over pass or something (I really wasn't being all that observant of what was above me) where all practically every parking stall had broken glass of some amount in it. I had to laugh. What the heck? I mean, are you trying to get a flat tire? I know why there was broken glass every where. I'm not as naive as I look.
Hang on, there is a bee trapped in my window. I've got to kill it before my husband gets home. Okay, so it's really a wasp or a yellow-jacket. I don't really care. But he's huge! And mad! And now he's dead!
So that was fun (no, not really). Any way, there's something strange that happens when people see a camera and people being filmed. For some reason, people driving by feel they need to honk their horns. Like just because the lens is focused on someone else, they just can't deal with it and need someone to pay attention to them. Maybe they need to get a girlfriend or boyfriend or something. Then there are the homeless drunkards. Three passed by us while he was shooting. Two guys and a female. The woman muttered expletives under her breath as she passed us. She was so talented at it I thought. She was so soft, yet perfectly loud enough that the wind carried the sound right to us. Musical. Anyway, they were chatting with each other and then the woman and one of the men left. As they did so, the other man yelled, "Take care of her brother! I am a killing machine!" Amusing really. But he kept pacing back and forth. He liked to sing too. He wasn't exactly the best singer, but perhaps if he were sober, he would have sounded better. I got some really nice head shots, though. It was really the perfect day. The sky was overcast, and we got them done just before it began to rain. I actually remembered to wear lipstick. Here they are because I know you are just dying to see them!

Too stiff. I need to relax (but what does that mean?!). But it's a nice smile...


I just don't like this one. I think it's my hair. But my posture is better.


I actually like this one, but my hair is in my face, so, Next!


Too cheesy. Move on.


I smiled, and Michael said, "Don't smile." So the next one is the one we used.


So sultry. Mr. Jones said I looked mad. That made me mad.


But Mr. Jones really loves this picture. He's going to put it on his desk at work.


Oh, and here is the wasp I killed. I told you he was big. I hope it doesn't freak my husband out! Ha ha ha! Teasing him is so easy!