As my little 11 year old Cake Boss would say when I would light up a cigar, “Ewwww, Papa! That’s gross!”
Well, you have no idea of “ewww” or “gross” until now.
Unfortunately, I used the last of the soap yesterday… It was too late when I stepped into the shower that I had forgotten to buy soap.
I was confronted with not washing at all…or…
…use my little Cake Boss’ soap… Excuuuuse me. Shower gel.
I now smell of Cranberry Twinkle.
No, I reek.
And the smell won’t go away.
Gotta light up a stogie to mask this wretched girlie odor.
Wait a minute.
I can’t. It’s 1:30 AM.
Not that anyone should notice but my attention had been diverted away from WordPress the past month or so. I decided to try and build a small (potential) income stream by (possibly) selling my photographs on websites. You know. Like for prints, greeting cards, cell phone cases and the like. Frankly, I don’t know why anyone would want to buy a photograph versus a painting but what the heck.
So my days outside of dealing with the ex-wife – who thrives on interfering during my supposed time with my kids – has been focused on setting up a (cheap) studio and shooting macros of flowers and the like. Plus having been an amateur FILM photographer in my youth, all this “photo editing” stuff has been a huge challenge. I’m up against young(er) pros who all they know is digital photography. You know. Fred Flintstone meets Captain Kirk. Oh well.
I also don’t know why I focused on macro photography for a niche market since I never had attempted it before… and the only thing I know about flowers is how to kill them. Certainly, other niche markets like patriotism, sports and pets would be broader but macros would be doable and without much expense. Besides, nothing would have to die.
Anyways, here’s a few of my recent snapshots:
And for a finale… Isn’t this a face only a mother could love? It is an actual flower called a Cuphea, or a “purpurea Firecracker”. Aren’t you impressed with this old former mechanic?
One of my websites is here: Fine Art America.
Time to light up a stogie.
I know. Ewww.
But it’s better than
smelling reeking like Cranberry Twinkle.