DAY TWENTY TWO

An excerpt from my latest pulp novel “The Devils Redheaded Bottom Bitch” It’s a working title. 

She was intense, earthy and her hair could light up a neon sign. Her piercing green eyes never left Det. Martinez and he had no reason to complain. From her amazing stems to her red hair that stabbed at sex, she was sight that would literally pain you, if you looked away. 

“I’m a small waist, but a tall glass.” She said.

“How long have you been in the business?”

“That’s non of yours.”

“I’d like it to be; beautiful women are a hobby with me.”

“Hobbies don’t interest me.”

“You could be a career.”

Her full lips parted and her breath quickened. “Now that,” she said with a smoky tone, “interests me more…”

I had  the most nonsensical dream last night. I was fighting zombies, killing quite a few actually, and I became so overwhelmed I took it to the heel and toe. As I was being chased I pulled a shotgun out my pocket, for some reason it had a sniper scope on it, and I began shooting my way through the living dead. At one point I turned back and saw a foxy redheaded zombie chasing me and there was no mistaking that red lipstick she had on, I’d seen pounds of it before, but I kept hoofing it. When I rounded a corner I came toe to toe with a large beast of the undead. So I did the only thing I cold do, I jumped in slow motion and kicked him right in the face. But as it turns out, this is very difficult to do while laying down, apparently my body doesn’t know how to sleep-roundhouse yet, so the action woke me up as I kicked the wall. Out of all the ridiculousness that was my dream, there was one thing I couldn’t fathom after waking up; Why didn’t I let that redheaded, soulless corpse catch me? 

Of course for day twenty two I would have to write a fucking novel when it comes to Samantha. But let’s get the fact that she is bloody gorgeous out of the way. Fact being indisputable by the way. Her amazing eyes capture your attention like a stoner staring at a lava lamp and her figure is flawless thanks to that great bum and her tiny waist. But forget all that for right now. What I absolutely love about her is her girlish innocence. She doesn’t let things affect her when she’s just hanging about. We can kick random UPS packages, we can ride quarter kiddy rides, we can play the mat swapping game and so many other foolish things without feeling judged by each other. That’s rare. I normally can feel the scrutiny of other people while doing almost any act I become engaged in. But not with Moon Head. She’s the epitome of fun. Merrymaking could be a good word to describe her. Moreover, whether it’s shooting some spectacular images or drinking a few lagers talking about how slutty St. Pauli Girl is while listening to “Looking for Love” on the Lovage playlist, it’s a bond that I don’t mind making a career out of. Day twenty two of “30 days of awesomeness,” and I present to you Samantha. You’re fucking welcome. 

DAY TWENTY ONE

While Mito (Meet with an “O” his business card reads) is easy on the eyes and really wouldn’t look out of place on a Guess ad, the cat is running for city council of West Hollywood. However out of place he may look with his running mates, he’s the only person I feel should be running. I more or less interviewed him and the reason it’s more or less is for one primary reason; he has to be the greatest conversationalist I’ve ever met. He’s in tune with everything, personable and unlike most people he actually listens. The majority of the population just sits around and waits for their turn to talk. He’s attentive and responds accordingly and while politics can tend to be a bit daunting, it’s a give and take with Mito. He holds firm to his convictions but somehow bends enough to allow you in. And damn it if you’re not right there with him at the end of the day. It makes me want to move to We Ho, help him run his campaign, vote for him, ride his coat tails to an upper office, maybe mayor, hopefully become his speech advisor/writer, handle some crazy press (not a scandal, but who am I kidding that would be awesome), rally for him to become a senator and eventually make his long and inevitable trip into the white house. But let’s just vote him into city council first. Baby steps, baby steps Vinnie.“Change is on it’s way!” Vote March 8th 2011.

SEPTEMBER NINETEENTH 

If I could be honest and I don’t see why not, it’s not like anyone reads these blogs anyway, I have a little bit of a crush on Nicole. She has a fantastic, gorgeous smile, a warm nature about her and a breathtaking glow that makes me think that it is an absolute crime that she doesn’t have a boyfriend. A fact I tend to tease her about because it’s a reality that her cousin Vy is continually reminding of. Not because Vy is trying to push her on me, at least I don’t think she is, but because she seems to think that I’m a decent fellow and it would make sense that decent fellows would know other decent fellows. Not this decent fellow. Besides there’s only like six of us in this state and we tend to not like competition. 

But back to Nicole. The funny thing about her is that she has this bashfulness to her and then I engage her in a conversation and she lights up and says certain things that bashful people just don’t say. That’s part of her loveliness. If I could tell her one thing that I would hope would make it into that sweet little mind of hers, that would be “You are beautiful beyond belief in every possible way, never be unsure of that, trust me I’m a doctor.”

DAY EIGHTEEN

TOP FIVE THINGS I ENVY ABOUT JASON CAMPA

1. Dude can dance. If I could crip walk/roger rabbit/electric slide like him, I wouldn’t be in photography. I’d be riding that Soul Train. 

2. His hair. Fuck what a beautiful maine. 

3. The cats panty charmer. Most broads look at him like he’s a harmless fag but ladies it’s all a ruse. He’s far from harmless and being fag. If you’re mind is in the works on that theory, he’s already reeling you in.

4. His Canon EF 100mm f/2 lens. If he wants my 7D to be bequeathed to him, I’d best be on his will with my name next to his hundred milly.

5. Ummm… well… hmmm. So I can’t think of five things right off the dome, but that doesn’t mean I dig him any less. *wink and the gun*

DAY SEVENTEEN

I’m often up into wee hours of the night and late night snacks have become a thing with me. I have to admit that I love my strawberry yogurt Yoplait light. While It gets me through those long stretches from two AM to four AM without breaking a sweat and with it being better for me than trying to wolf down leftover pizza or my occasional Chef Boyardee beef ravioli cravings, nothing beats the price of midnight tacos. Not to mention the tasty fish tacos that Taco Beach dishes out the front door for only a buck. 

So when I told my daughter one of the best things about being her dad is the ability to make decisions like getting midnight tacos. At first she said “What are midnight Tacos?” and I retorted “You and your brother put your sweatshirt and shoes on.” And we trotted a block away to grab some tasty goodness at La Cabanita Grill. So far it’s become a great little adventure we make and I get to be the cool dad, even if just for a moment, who takes them to get one of my favorite midnight snacks. And there’s no one I love sharing great things with more than my princess and the boy. No one.

SEPTEMBER SIXTEENTH

Sylvia has always made me smile because she has a disposition that seems to not like my disposition. And then my disposition is like “Well fuck you then.” And then her disposition is like, “You’re taking this all the wrong way.” “How am I supposed to take that you don’t like me?” My disposition queries. “As sarcasm.” “Oh… I knew that.”

I know that she loves me but she tends to be so reserved that I have to fight with her to laugh. But when I finally get her rolling, it’s mutha freakin on. I love talking to her because she just let’s me say the stupid things I say and then she tells me how stupid they are. Something tells me that if she had it her way she’d show me with an easel, a protractor and powerpoint presentation just how stupid I can sound sometimes. But I  and my disposition and I say “I know UNO prison rules. So meeeehhhh.”  with intense conviction. 

I’m so stupid. 

DAY FIFTEEN

The woman of a thousand looks. If she were a superhero, and god knows she wants to be, that would be her power. To change looks faster than a speeding bullet. I’ve shot so many times with Nicole, you’d think she’d have her own bunk at my place and I’m sure the neighbors tend to think she’s moving in with the amount of clothes she brings. But who cares, she’s just to amazing for words.

I’ve photographed her in different outfits, at different locations and with the amount of change that is in her bag of tricks, I still don’t think I’ve been able to capture her incredible eyes perfectly. Even though I have several images that are just bloody phenomenal, they are just so damn difficult to conquer. But when it comes right down to it, fuck just her eyes. Her beauty is just impossible to incarcerate. I would have to obtain every super power known to the Marvel and DC Universe in order to put under lock and key Nicole’s pulchritude. But for now I’ll just attempt to squander any extra dough re mi I get on camera equipment to capture her loveliness.

GRAVITY BOYS INTERVIEW

SEPTEMBER FOURTEEN

The shoot with Kaylee Robin Michele Brown lasted about ten to fifteen minutes and I felt like I couldn’t do no wrong. It doesn’t matter if she’s just looking beautiful for a headshot or if she’s posting up, there is not a single thing I can do to capture a terrible photo of her. I only took seventy images and normally I’ll shoot at least two or three hundred until I feel I’ve nailed down a few images. But with Kaylee Robin Michele Brown I had it within fifteen shots. I took the fifty five other images just for funsies. I can’t wait until we shoot on a more serious note. 

DAY THIRTEEN

“There are millions of people in the world and none of those people are extras. They’re all leads in their own stories.”

I’m standing in a corner and I’m watching all the self important people walk around in their own their own worlds. I’m in Long Beach. This city has always inspired me to be an extra in life. It’s taught me humility and hope. It’s my home. It’s my day thirteen.

DAY TWELVE

I hardly see my cousin Jackie and not because she’s one of those family members that’s dull or is a massive tool. But you just lose track of people like you lose track of you’re favorite book. One minute it’s there for you to enjoy and next it’s gone. Did I let a friend borrow it? Did I leave it in the mountains? Maybe it never got un-boxed. But then it’s rediscovered and you read it again… and somehow it’s just as amazing as you remembered, but in a slightly different way. Not because the book has changed but because you as person changed. That’s how I felt while shooting with Jackie. I guess I just appreciate different things now. If I were pressed for my favorite Jackie quality it would have to be that she’s so quick to laugh. Some people cover their mouth when they smile or feel embarrassed about it. She doesn’t. She’s proud and makes no excuses for it. It’s a quality that so many people take for granted. There are very few people I know that can smile and sing New Kids On The Block’s version of “Didn’t I Blow Your Mind This Time” with their eyes closed and show their prominent dimples without feeling embarrassed. Jackie is of that disposition and that’s why I love her.


We shot for maybe a total of an hour and drank for about twelve hours straight. So let me recap the day in sixty seconds. IBM, Beer, Green M&M’s, Phlegm and Ham pizza, DSLR tutorial, rocket shots, Fat Tire, dread envy, The Snake, Laughter, Pee Break, Stomach Nipples, “Nice Dress”, Vodka and Tampico, Uno bitches, Red Stripe Mon, Hammertime, Dirty Dancing, Smarties Attack, Foot Race, Midnight Tacos and lot and lots of laughs and movie quotes. If I left anything out it was because I was sauced for at least eight of those hours. Ahhh…. I need more family time.

DAY ELEVEN

Days and nights seem to compress themselves together and it becomes hard to pin point what day it is to the next. But this is Saturday… and there’s no mistaking that. If I can be honest, I’m not particularly a football fan or even a sports fan. What I do tend to love is acquiring moments and I enjoy attending UCLA games for the experience. Where else can I drink Fat Tire in a parking lot, laugh over the reasons why Jess’ Mom, Linda, would make a good drug dealer and listen to Tom shout at the back of a man’s head asking “WHAT ARE YOU STUPID?” Which is really more of a statement than it is a question. But I’d like for one moment, as if I were in a Woody Allen film, someone to actually shout back an factual answer. Maybe a “I was shnockerd last night and thought I could sustain thought today!” or hopefully “I left my balls in my wife’s purse!” Hearing something like that would give me some piece of mind about the players and their choices in life on and off the field. As for the reasons of feeling joviality when I yell present at the game today, there are three. Jess, Linda and Tom. Good times.