the writing and photography of Neil Kramer

Tag: photography (Page 9 of 9)

Blog Appreciation Day: Behind the Scenes

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Boy, yesterday was fun!  I’m overwhelmed with how special you all are. 

And now a special treat.  Grab your backstage pass and see what REALLY happened during my preparations for the festivities. 

Wednesday, 8PM – I decide it is time to take my Blog Appreciation Day photos.

8:15PM — My digital camera doesn’t work.  I go to Rite-Aid to buy some new batteries.

9:00PM — The digital camera does not NEED new batteries.  The digital camera is broken.

9:30PM — I decide to use my camera phone, but all I can see in the viewfinder are scan lines on the monitor.

10:20PM — I move Sophia’s computer system downstairs where there is less “interference” on the monitor and fewer scan lines.  Why?  I have no idea!

11:00PM — I set up my “photography studio” in the dining room.  The area is dark, so I move a halogen lamp in, tilting it to the side so that it becomes the “scene’s” main light source.

11:20PM — The halogen lamp gives off a weird yellow glow.

11:30PM — I place an LA Times in front of the monitor,  but the camera can’t make it out.  It just looks like a white piece of glare.  I decide on a stronger visual gimmick — a pair of “California” undies hanging over the monitor.  

Midnight –  I go to Rite-Aid to buy string and some clothes pins.

Thursday, 1:00AM –I spent an hour hanging the string from the lighting fixture and pinning the underwear so it falls directly over the monitor.  I almost pull the lighting fixture off the ceiling.  I promise to never tell Sophia about that.

1:30 AM — Even though the underwear is now hanging over the moniter, it is still difficult to read the “California” written on the underwear because the fabric creases up. 

2:00AM — I come up with a brilliant solution.  I place the camera batteries in the crotch area, giving the underwear some weight, pulling the underwear down, and making the “California” easier to read.

2:40AM — I take some photos.  Things are going great until I realize that the batteries in the crotch area make the “California” underwear look like they have a hard-on.  I take the batteries out of the crotch, delete the photos,  and start all over again.

3:00AM — Sophia calls up.  She yells at me for using her underwear, saying they are old and everyone will think she has a big ass.  I promise not to use the underwear in the shoot, but I am lying.

4:00AM – Sophia also explains to me why my photos are coming out so dark.  The “brightness level” of the camera phone is on -15.  I start all over again.

5:00AM — I finish taking my blog appreciation day photos.  But I still need a cable to transfer the photos to the computer – and it is back at my other apartment.  Doh!  And the clock is ticking.  Soon, everyone on the East Coast will be up and going online!

5:30AM — I rush over to my apartment on the other side of town.  I transfer the photos.  All the photos have an ugly green tint.  I open each photo in Photoshop to work my mediocre filter magic.

7:00AM — I quickly email the photos, praying that I’m not sending the wrong photo to the wrong person.

8:00AM – I return to Redondo Beach. I take the monitor off the kitchen table and fall asleep right at the table.

9:00AM — I am startled awake.  The “California” underwear has fallen off the clothes pins and right onto my head.

But it was all worth it!  Every second of it.

Thanks for a great Blog Appreciation Day!

A Year Ago on Citizen of the Month:  I Married a Republican!

 

The Photo Shoot

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Today, I finally played around with the free phone I got for being a Sprint Ambassador.  It’s a cool phone with a lot of options:  the ability to go online, to download music, and to watch TV.  It also has a decent camera.  I was going to take some photos, but I couldn’t figure out what to photograph.  I was going to put the phone away when I heard my Penis talking to me from inside my pants.

“Hey, I have an idea.  Let’s do some cockblogging.”

“Huh?”

“You know, all those websites that women have where men send photos in of their erections.  Let’s take a photo of me.”

“And why on Earth would I want to do that?”

“Answer me this.  Have you ever looked at a photo of a naked woman online?”

“Uh,  sometimes.”

“Think of this as giving something back to the community.”

“I don’t think so.  I don’t enjoy the idea of plastering an image of my penis all over the blogosphere.  Especially since I’m supposedly looking for a job.”

“It might actually HELP you get a better job.  Employers like workers with initiative.”

“I don’t really really feel comfortable with this.”

“You say you’re a believer in feminism and women’s equality, but when women want to express their sexuality by looking at erect penises, you mock them.”

“I’m not mocking them.”

“Why don’t you just put them behind Burqas?  Move them all to Saudi Arabia, you hypocrite.”

“Penis, you’re really being manipulative with this argument.”

“As they say, if you’re not part of the solution, you’re part of the problem.”

“You’re totally out of line, Penis…”

“C’mon… do it for the women.  The lonely women.  The ones who will be home on Valentine’s Day without a boyfriend and all they have is your erect penis on the computer monitor.  Be a mensch.”

I started thinking about all my lonely Valentine’s Days, when the only one who sent me a card was my mother.

“Do you really think it will help brighten someone’s day?”

“Sure… sure…   and isn’t that what you’re all about…”

“I do like to make other people happy…”

“Then it’s settled…”

“OK, let’s try it and see what happens. ”

“Great, let’s get to work!”

“What’s the first step?”

“Do you still have that “Dancing with the Stars” on the Tivo?  The one with the very sexy dancer named Cheryl doing the rumba in that short skirt?”

“I think so.”

Four minutes later we were ready for the photo shoot.

We moved to the bedroom, where I attempted to frame the perfect shot.  I checked the light with an old light meter I had used in film school.

“Penis, could you just move over a little to the left… that’s it… good…good… Brilliant lighting.  It reminds me a little bit of the opening shot in “Rear Window””

“You do realize you’re setting things up to take the shot from the left side.  When I’m actually more photogenic on my right side.

“Well, I have to do it this way if I want the mirror in the shot.  There supposed to be a reflection.  Did you ever see Bergman’s “Wild Strawberries?””

“Are you an asshole?  I’m the one who’s going to be in the photo and I’m telling you that my right side is better!”

“Does it really matter which side I shoot you from?”

“Would you ask that of  Barbra Streisand?  On talk shows, they rearrange the furniture just for her. She even comes with her own special lighting equipment.”

“For a man’s dick, you’re a real prima donna.”

“I think you’re a little jealous that I’m the star here, and you’re just the crew.  Below-the-line, as they say in Hollywood.”

“I’m the photographer, jerk.  Like Ansel Adams, they remember the photographer, not the subject.”

“Oh yeah, so tell me, what were you thinking of naming this photograph?”

“How about something like… “Neil and his Cock?”

“You slimy backstabber.  I knew it!  It clearly should be named “The Cock and his Neil.””

“You’re my cock.  Why should you get top billing?”

“Oh, I see.  Now you want top billing?  Before you didn’t even want anyone to do this.  Now all of a sudden, you see the fame and fortune.   Very “All about Eve” of you.   I do the work and you take the money.  Welcome to the entertainment industry.”

“Listen, Penis, I don’t care what you say.  I’m not going to put my own name after my own cock.”

“Oh, Big Neilochka.  Now I see the real you.  You say you’re a nice guy, but you’re really a creep.  You want to play hard ball…”

“Calm down, Penis.”

“Who are you to tell me what to do?  I run things around here.”

“Actually you don’t.  I do.”

“Bullshit!”

“You know, forget it.  This photo shoot is off!”

“Fuck you, Neilochka!”

“OK, Penis, go back to normal.”

“Ha Ha.  Sucker!  I’m staying up as long as I want.  Hard as a rock.”

“Go down, I insist.”

“Fuck you.  Fuck you.  Fuck you.”

“Look, if you’re not going to go down yourself, I can just –”

“Get your goddamn hand off me.  How rude.  You don’t touch me unless I agree to it.  Sometimes no means no.”

“OK, I’m sorry.  May I, please…?”

“No.”

“OK, fine.  Then I’m going to take a cold shower.  That should work.”

‘No, it won’t.  Not if I don’t say so.”

“Oh, yes it will.”

“Ten bucks.”

“You’re on!”

As I headed to the shower, I could hear —

“Scarlett Johannson’s gorgeous ripe, delicious tits.  Imagine them in your face.  Sharon Stone slowly opening her thighs revealing the good stuff in Basic Instinct.  She’s calling you over.  “Neilochka, Neilochka, fuck me, fuck me.  Sophia in Madrid during the honeymoon, slowly taking off her clothes.”

“OK, shut up!  Shut up!”

I reached over for the telephone and dialed it.  Sophia answered.

“Hello?”

“Sophia, it’s me.  I need you to come over right away.”

“I’m watching last week’s Celebrity Poker Showdown.”

“It’s an emergency.”

“What’s the matter?”

“It’s, uh, my cock… I need you to…”

“Gee, how romantic.  Good-bye.”

Click.  She hung up.

“OK, I give up.”

“Good — let’s go back to the shoot.”

“Fine.”

“Ha Ha.  The Penis always wins.”

But I didn’t say I was going to take a GOOD SHOT.

Who’s the sucker now, Penis?!   You are!!   Loser!

Man 1    Penis 0

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