Anomalies in Photography

I love photography, a favorite hobby of mine along with philanthropy, philosophy and philandery. I don’t think philandery is a word, just thought it’d be cool to have my top four interests all start with a PH and end in Y.
That one is odd, brought on by inebriated motivations in a Mexican slophouse at 2am. I purchased my camera around this time last year, so I concluded it might be entertaining to go through some of the many strange, unique, and thought-provoking snaps taken that don’t exactly have context or a major story arch attached. For instance, there's no explanation for the flying bird in the lower right hand corner.
Another phenomenon was the narcoleptic Steelers fan I encountered at El Guapo off Melrose.
My amiable server Kate, whose section I always sit in because she provides exemplary service beyond the pale, confirmed that Lambert wasn’t just a simple drunkard.
Apparently he frequents El Guapo and the friendly staff has become aware of the affliction that cripples him from minute to minute. That didn’t stop the swine behind me from poking fun, and he felt embarrassed after I revealed the reason for the constant passing out.
In good conscience, I cannot neglect forgetting the scary transvestite I caught slipping outside of a fashion show.
Yikes! There were uncomfortable snickers in the elevator moments after that happened, the trauma progressing into the fringes. It was tough maintaining composure, and like Raj, I’m normally an expert in that field.
I’ll also throw in this photo of weirdo ticket-tear guy guarding the main passageway to the “Snakes on a Plane” premiere at The Vista.
He was a little too excitable for my taste, plus that flick was garbage. So, is this guy cold or dead or both?
As far as showy friends, Eagle has been a major oversight on my part. There’s never a dull moment when hanging out with him.
It’s cool to know someone named Eagle. His sense of humor is the kind that attracts people from all over with the sharpness and pure insanity behind his candidly barefaced commentary.
When I enter a Bash and he appears, my internal Bash meter climbs to unprecedented levels.
His fiendish escapades into the world of black magic thrill beyond compare. When I bluntly ask him, “What voodoo do you do?” he refuses to answer.

The following intimate image illustrates the fragility involved in the fine art of cockblocking.
On Raymond’s lap lays Melinda, a female who fancies Raymond enough to fake passing out in order to stake her claim. The other girl with the pricelessly disappointed mug, Jin-seo, really wanted Raymond as well, especially after he mauled her an hour before. But he is unable to actively make an allegedly wasted Melinda go away. Those 20 minutes certainly qualified for most outwardly awkward cockblock. Melinda is an actress, so I won’t put anything past her. Jin-seo was real pissed as I held my laughter in. Lucky guy?

On the subject of drunken objectivity, I’ve found that Captain Morgan can assist in my photographic decision-making skills.
As I’ve noted before, sometimes when I’m clipped the camera focus will inadvertently shift from tasteful to distasteful in a matter of milliseconds. I blame it on my woeful upbringing in the ghetto. Welfare is hard.
I trip on this one from the hall of mirrors at the Cheesecake Factory.
Actually, more like booth mirrors. And who can forget the child abuse my camera inadvertently caught an hour after.
This is a cool picture from St. Nick's . . .
Lance is one of my best friends, and our nights Bashing have taken on legend far too many times to count. He always finds time to point out the absurdity surroundings often undertake.
Here’s a photo of some pigs on a donut break at the Santa Monica Promenade:
I love the smell of bacon. Speaking of which, how good does the Barney’s Beanery Irish Nachos look?
Yummy! I took this picture at my local Chinese restaurant:
This shot was taken while completely wasted one morning as the sun was rising.
I used to be dreadfully allergic to cats, miserably, and it was an influential reason to not date certain girls. Then came Tera, who I couldn’t resist, blazing her trail into the picture and my hand was forced. At first the horror of eye-swelling redness, incessant sneezing and irritability foreshadowed the affair being a lost cause. After three months of dating and sleeping over, the symptoms disappeared, and to this day I’m “cured,” so no more hate for most cats. Enough of the cat tangent, get a load of this:
If I’m ever going to own a hardware store, it’ll definitely be Baller! Don’t know what the Hell camera setting this is, but looks sort of euphoric.
I like making my camera do rare effects, so I’m eternally trying to find the so-called sweet spot. I certainly have my preferred settings, and Alisa has been my diamond in the rough with her genius behind the camera.
Without her insights and experience I would’ve never been able to capture the weirdness of Wayne walking to his car. I also like it when a picture I didn’t take turns out well.
I did not enjoy documenting the repulsive cockroach I discovered when I visited, supposedly, the “Best Korean BBQ” restaurant in K-Town.
After taking the snap, I pointed the beast out to the kitchen, and in turn they all freaked out. Admittedly, it was amusing to push the envelope, so I made a little bit of a scene. Hours later I couldn’t help but retch. And finally, on another occasion somewhat related, I had Taco Bell Drive-Thru Girl take my picture at 4:41am on a Thursday morning (according to the time code).