Me, I got bored at home and got out the camera.
Standing outside wasn't working for me, so I decided to try some candlelight photography. Been reading a bit about it, how-to and all that.
The cats didn't miss an opportunity to be a pain in the ass. Something about setting up the sheets for backdrops got them all riled up and they wouldn't quit wrestling around under the sheets and around the edges, knocking stuff about and kicking each other in the head. I shot them with the squirt gun about a dozen times, but somehow my little studio just seemed to attract frisky cats. You can see Jello partially exposed in the above frame, the jerk. He needs to quit turning on the faucets, too.
The first subject I thought of was, of course, an enormous penis. It's a trophy Corinna won in an alley cat race a few years back.
Then I thought of my guitar, which deserves to be photographed almost as much as it deserves to be played a lot more than I've managed to do lately. My uncle built it for me, and it's one of the few earthly possessions I have I'd actually hurt someone over.
It's not what people envision when you say you have a guitar your uncle built you. Not unless your last name is D'Angelico or Benedetto or something.
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