Valuable lesson from the last few weeks; A woman may be able to fake an orgasm, but only a man can fake a relationship. Or in my case, fake interest in a conversation with a woman.

I have a job, sort of. It sucks, will likely be graveyard, and I�m bound to hate it. But it offers survival at the expense of sanity. Which is good, I�ve been enjoying a little too much sanity and clarity of thought, it�s time to mix it up a little bit. So this means I effectively have, um.. 3 jobs? Well, 2 jobs and an artistic deadline fast approaching which I�ve been neglecting due to the fear of models MELTING under the Vegas heat, lack of financial means, and the lack of a lab to work in.

Funny thing is there isn�t a lab left in town that does photographic prints. They scan them and print them out. Oh, and the completely FUCK UP the color.

Did I forget to mention that they are clueless shit-for-brains who cannot follow simple instructions to save their miserable lives? Yes, well, they are that as well.

I met the previous owner of a rather successful, but now defunct, lab here in town at a new gin joint in the downtown sector. He wouldn�t shut the fuck up and tried to sell Geoff a hooker. Apparently, he�s now a taxi cab driver.

Oh, I have to shave my goatee off.

...

I�m not sure how I feel about that.

Sick satisfaction = Waking up to the sound of a M80 going off, and the tortured screams of one of the neighborhood hooligans at 6am in the morning. Yes, you little fucker, try lighting a M80 outside my window at 6am in the fucking morning and karma will make you pay, you little fuck.

Watching him run across the street, screaming bloody murder, with bleary eyes and a crooked grin is a perfect way to start the day.

More tidbits of trivia; biker bars can serve up a mean BBQ rib, but they overcharge; people accuse stupid people of being drunk people, when they are really just kinda stupid; I�ve actually had the desire (meaning, I had a imagery idea) of photographing a naked woman.

Those that know me will know how odd the last statement is. I�m over it, to be sure, more because there isn�t a woman I know that I would or could ask to perform the shot, but the sheer fact that the image implanted itself in my head, unbidden, is interesting enough.

Yes, well. I think I�ll go to the gym.

-G