Second post of the day to say thank you. Thank you to all you couples pose makers, and you know who you are, that are putting pictures in with your poses. Heaven knows I have balls... not those you pervs... couples pose balls... in my inventory. ;) I have a million... okay, maybe not a million but enough to make me think there is.
In the beginning, I had great plans to make this neat little storage area for all my couples pose balls. With little pictures above them for people to pick and choose from... but as prim space would have it, my prim space that is, that just didn't work out. Sooooo having the photos makes a world of difference, so THANK YOU!
But... and there is always a but... let me just say... if there is anyone out there, someone, a nerd, a geek, a code god... anyone that has the ability to make a stand, where I can just drop alllllllll my little couples pose balls into it without having to re-write War and Peace I would name my first born child after you. Seriously... I'm not kidding. On the top of my wish list is a stand that I can use for all my couples poses that even a technically handicapped person such as myself could use.
Sooooo... if you know of one... or someone, call me... IM me, note card me, hell send a carrier pigeon just contact me.
Monday, January 26, 2009
Exclusive Studios
My bestest, bestest boy toy Fricker Fraker made me a new toy! I love it and I love him he's the sweetest, most technologically advanced geek I know! Soooo without further ado... some shameless self promotion for my photography studio. :)
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Away For The Holidays
Well folks, just a quick note to say, I hope you all have a wonderful, and very Merry Christmas. I'll be away for a week as the holidays are upon us. Should you need to contact me just drop me a notecard in world and I'll get back to you as soon as I can.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Thanksgiving Memories
When I was a child, one of the best Thanksgiving’s ever for me was the one I spent at the Salvation Army.
Yes, the Salvation Army. My parents decided one year instead of feeding our own faces we would help feed others. They signed up to participate in the Thanksgiving dinner offered to the homeless, the poor, and any others that could not manage to have a Thanksgiving dinner.
I knew from watching television that many places would do events such as these and you could see people standing in a line serving the community of people that would file past each one receiving a spoonful of this, a helping of that.
So when we got there I was excited to think this is what we would be doing. Instead, there were already too many volunteers there that had secured the front seat positions in serving. They had no interest in doing the cooking, the cleaning, busing the tables. And they were not shy about vocalizing that point. But my father said to the woman in charge “we’re here to work, just put us where you need us”. At first I was disappointed. I wanted to be one of those in the line serving people. You know, show up randomly on TV looking like a great humanitarian. But that wasn’t to be.
It didn’t take long for me to realize no matter what job they put me to do it was really a gift, a blessing. What I saw and experienced that day has not left me. I learned the beauty of helping others by stringing green beans by washing dishes, by mopping the floor and by taking out the trash.
Each person served there that day had a story to tell only not by voice but upon their faces. I was touched by each one and hoped in some small way the work we did there that day would bless them in the way I felt blessed.
As we finished up and the line of people slowed to a trickle, the woman in charge told us we were welcome to take plates for ourselves. As a kid, I didn’t have to be told twice, I hurried up and loaded up on each item and carefully wrapped my plate in Saran Wrap to take my treasure home with me.
Soon a new wave of people showed up, yes they were late to the party but it was obvious they were cold, and hungry. The workers had all taken plates and the line servers had left. There was very little food remaining. All but three of those people got served and the food ran out. My family and I each had a plate. My father didn’t hesitate to hand over his plate to the man, my mother gave hers to his son. Seeing this I looked at my prize I had so carefully collected and with a slight pang I handed over my plate to the woman with them. I’m not a good enough writer to describe the looks on their faces. The gratefulness in which they were so obviously filled with. I only know for certain, it did make a difference.
It was by far the best Thanksgiving I have ever had in my life. I am thankful for many things and I am blessed in many ways. Thank you mom and dad, you guys are the best examples of fine human beings and I love you both dearly.
In closing, it is my hope, my wish and my most sincere desire that you have all had a wonderful Thanksgiving with your families today.
Yes, the Salvation Army. My parents decided one year instead of feeding our own faces we would help feed others. They signed up to participate in the Thanksgiving dinner offered to the homeless, the poor, and any others that could not manage to have a Thanksgiving dinner.
I knew from watching television that many places would do events such as these and you could see people standing in a line serving the community of people that would file past each one receiving a spoonful of this, a helping of that.
So when we got there I was excited to think this is what we would be doing. Instead, there were already too many volunteers there that had secured the front seat positions in serving. They had no interest in doing the cooking, the cleaning, busing the tables. And they were not shy about vocalizing that point. But my father said to the woman in charge “we’re here to work, just put us where you need us”. At first I was disappointed. I wanted to be one of those in the line serving people. You know, show up randomly on TV looking like a great humanitarian. But that wasn’t to be.
It didn’t take long for me to realize no matter what job they put me to do it was really a gift, a blessing. What I saw and experienced that day has not left me. I learned the beauty of helping others by stringing green beans by washing dishes, by mopping the floor and by taking out the trash.
Each person served there that day had a story to tell only not by voice but upon their faces. I was touched by each one and hoped in some small way the work we did there that day would bless them in the way I felt blessed.
As we finished up and the line of people slowed to a trickle, the woman in charge told us we were welcome to take plates for ourselves. As a kid, I didn’t have to be told twice, I hurried up and loaded up on each item and carefully wrapped my plate in Saran Wrap to take my treasure home with me.
Soon a new wave of people showed up, yes they were late to the party but it was obvious they were cold, and hungry. The workers had all taken plates and the line servers had left. There was very little food remaining. All but three of those people got served and the food ran out. My family and I each had a plate. My father didn’t hesitate to hand over his plate to the man, my mother gave hers to his son. Seeing this I looked at my prize I had so carefully collected and with a slight pang I handed over my plate to the woman with them. I’m not a good enough writer to describe the looks on their faces. The gratefulness in which they were so obviously filled with. I only know for certain, it did make a difference.
It was by far the best Thanksgiving I have ever had in my life. I am thankful for many things and I am blessed in many ways. Thank you mom and dad, you guys are the best examples of fine human beings and I love you both dearly.
In closing, it is my hope, my wish and my most sincere desire that you have all had a wonderful Thanksgiving with your families today.
Monday, November 24, 2008
I Don't Care
I know it’s been a long time since I’ve blogged, but I have a valid reason. I’ve been busy. Taking “your” photographs, and processing “your” pictures. I love it really. My job is the greatest. I meet great people, always happy to be photographed and I get to practice my art which is one of my all time favorite things to do. But that’s not why I’m writing this blog installment.
Recently, whilst minding my own business, going through props and sorting texture backgrounds I received a note card. Now that’s not all that unusual as I indicate in my profile to drop me a note card for scheduling shoots and whatnot. But this note card was not about a photo session.
Instead this note card contained a copy and pasted conversation between the person that sent the note card and someone I know only by group association. I don’t even know the person who sent the note card.
In the card it was clear these two were having a disagreement. About what I don’t know and frankly I don’t care. The point here is, someone took it upon themselves out of anger, frustration, childish immaturity I don’t know, to send out to me and god only knows how many other people a snippet of an argument evidently in an attempt to shame the other person.
Now for those who don’t know me, let me just be blunt here. First, I don’t care about your disagreements, your arguments, your passionate idealistic quarrels with one another. Those conversations are yours and the other persons and I have no need to be involved in it. Furthermore, I don’t want to be involved. I won’t take your side, I won’t take theirs, and I won’t pass the information along to anyone for any reason period.
The only thing you’re accomplishing by sending me a sampling of your war is to make yourself appear even more childish, immature and pitiful than you already are. I mean really now, how old are you, 12? Is this third grade? Is that what you do in your first life? Geez if it is, I’m thankful I don’t know you.
But I digress. I’m simply here to tell you, in the future, should you choose to make the same idiotic mistake again, please remove my name from your broadcast spam before sending out the text from your next juvenile squabble. Remember, I don’t care what your beef is, I don’t care who you think you are… if I don’t know you, I don’t care about you or your petty little war.
That’s it for now. Thanks for listening. Remember, let’s keep it safe out there… always wear a condom and all that good stuff. Not that, condoms have anything to do with this but it seemed I should remind you all of something important as this surely wasn’t.
Recently, whilst minding my own business, going through props and sorting texture backgrounds I received a note card. Now that’s not all that unusual as I indicate in my profile to drop me a note card for scheduling shoots and whatnot. But this note card was not about a photo session.
Instead this note card contained a copy and pasted conversation between the person that sent the note card and someone I know only by group association. I don’t even know the person who sent the note card.
In the card it was clear these two were having a disagreement. About what I don’t know and frankly I don’t care. The point here is, someone took it upon themselves out of anger, frustration, childish immaturity I don’t know, to send out to me and god only knows how many other people a snippet of an argument evidently in an attempt to shame the other person.
Now for those who don’t know me, let me just be blunt here. First, I don’t care about your disagreements, your arguments, your passionate idealistic quarrels with one another. Those conversations are yours and the other persons and I have no need to be involved in it. Furthermore, I don’t want to be involved. I won’t take your side, I won’t take theirs, and I won’t pass the information along to anyone for any reason period.
The only thing you’re accomplishing by sending me a sampling of your war is to make yourself appear even more childish, immature and pitiful than you already are. I mean really now, how old are you, 12? Is this third grade? Is that what you do in your first life? Geez if it is, I’m thankful I don’t know you.
But I digress. I’m simply here to tell you, in the future, should you choose to make the same idiotic mistake again, please remove my name from your broadcast spam before sending out the text from your next juvenile squabble. Remember, I don’t care what your beef is, I don’t care who you think you are… if I don’t know you, I don’t care about you or your petty little war.
That’s it for now. Thanks for listening. Remember, let’s keep it safe out there… always wear a condom and all that good stuff. Not that, condoms have anything to do with this but it seemed I should remind you all of something important as this surely wasn’t.
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Runway Kidz Model Auction CANCELLED
Hey evyerone!! FYI! The Runway Kidz Model Auction scheduled for today is being cancelled and rescheduled for a later date. Please follow the blogs for more updates soon!
Cherie Parker
Cherie Parker
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
Oh Happy Day
I don't normally do this, but a good friend of mine sent this to me and I just felt it screamed to be shared. Not only is it one of the funniest things I've read in a long, long time but it's undeniably true and accurate.
I know many of you ladies will applaud this article wholeheartedly. Enjoy.
This is an actual letter from an Austin, TX woman sent to American company Proctor and Gamble regarding their feminine products. She really gets rolling after the first paragraph. It's PC Magazine's 2007 editors' choice for best webmail-award-winning letter.
Dear Mr. Thatcher,
I have been a loyal user of your 'Always' maxi pads for over 20 years and I appreciate many of their features. Why, without the LeakGuard Core or Dri-Weave absorbency, I'd probably never go horseback riding or salsa dancing, and I'd certainly steer clear of running up and down the beach in tight, white shorts.
But my favorite feature has to be your revolutionary Flexi-Wings. Kudos on being the only company smart enough to realize how crucial it is that maxi pads be aerodynamic. I can't tell you how safe and Secure I feel each month knowing there's a little F-16 in my pants.
Have you ever had a menstrual l period, Mr. Thatcher? I'm guessing you haven't. Well, my time of the month is starting right now. As I type, I can already feel hormonal forces violently surging through my body. Just a few minutes from now, my body will adjust and I'll be transformed into what my husband likes to call 'an inbred hillbilly with knife skills.' Isn't the human body amazing?
As Brand Manager in the Feminine-Hygiene Division, you've no doubt seen quite a bit of research on what exactly happens during your customer's monthly visits from 'Aunt Flo'. Therefore, you must know about the bloating, puffiness, and cramping we endure, and about our intense mood swings, crying jags, and out-of-control behavior... You surely realize it's a tough time for most women.
The point is, sir, you of all people must realize that America is just crawling with homicidal maniacs in Capri pants... Which brings me to the reason for my letter.
Last month, while in the throes of cramping so painful I wanted to reach inside my body and yank out my uterus, I opened an Always maxi-pad, and there, printed on the adhesive backing, were these words: 'Have a Happy Period.'
Are you f------ kidding me? What I mean is, does any part of your tiny middle-manager brain really think happiness - actual smiling, laughing happiness, is possible during a menstrual period? Did anything mentioned above sound the least bit pleasurable? Well, did it, James? FYI, unless you're some kind of sick S&M freak, there will never be anything 'happy' about a day in which you have to jack yourself up on Motrin and Kahlua and lock yourself in your house just so you don't march down to the local Walgreen's armed with a hunting rifle and a sketchy plan to end your life in a blaze of glory.
For the love of God, pull your head out, man! If you have to slap a moronic message on a maxi pad, wouldn't it make more sense to say something that's actually pertinent, like 'Put down the Hammer' or 'Vehicular Manslaughter is Wrong'.
Sir, please inform your Accounting Department that, effective immediately, there will be an $8 drop in monthly profits, for I have chosen to take my maxi-pad business elsewhere. And though I will certainly miss your Flex-Wings, I will not for one minute miss your brand of condescending bullshit. And that's a promise I will keep. Always.
Best,
Wendi Aarons
Austin, TX
I know many of you ladies will applaud this article wholeheartedly. Enjoy.
This is an actual letter from an Austin, TX woman sent to American company Proctor and Gamble regarding their feminine products. She really gets rolling after the first paragraph. It's PC Magazine's 2007 editors' choice for best webmail-award-winning letter.
Dear Mr. Thatcher,
I have been a loyal user of your 'Always' maxi pads for over 20 years and I appreciate many of their features. Why, without the LeakGuard Core or Dri-Weave absorbency, I'd probably never go horseback riding or salsa dancing, and I'd certainly steer clear of running up and down the beach in tight, white shorts.
But my favorite feature has to be your revolutionary Flexi-Wings. Kudos on being the only company smart enough to realize how crucial it is that maxi pads be aerodynamic. I can't tell you how safe and Secure I feel each month knowing there's a little F-16 in my pants.
Have you ever had a menstrual l period, Mr. Thatcher? I'm guessing you haven't. Well, my time of the month is starting right now. As I type, I can already feel hormonal forces violently surging through my body. Just a few minutes from now, my body will adjust and I'll be transformed into what my husband likes to call 'an inbred hillbilly with knife skills.' Isn't the human body amazing?
As Brand Manager in the Feminine-Hygiene Division, you've no doubt seen quite a bit of research on what exactly happens during your customer's monthly visits from 'Aunt Flo'. Therefore, you must know about the bloating, puffiness, and cramping we endure, and about our intense mood swings, crying jags, and out-of-control behavior... You surely realize it's a tough time for most women.
The point is, sir, you of all people must realize that America is just crawling with homicidal maniacs in Capri pants... Which brings me to the reason for my letter.
Last month, while in the throes of cramping so painful I wanted to reach inside my body and yank out my uterus, I opened an Always maxi-pad, and there, printed on the adhesive backing, were these words: 'Have a Happy Period.'
Are you f------ kidding me? What I mean is, does any part of your tiny middle-manager brain really think happiness - actual smiling, laughing happiness, is possible during a menstrual period? Did anything mentioned above sound the least bit pleasurable? Well, did it, James? FYI, unless you're some kind of sick S&M freak, there will never be anything 'happy' about a day in which you have to jack yourself up on Motrin and Kahlua and lock yourself in your house just so you don't march down to the local Walgreen's armed with a hunting rifle and a sketchy plan to end your life in a blaze of glory.
For the love of God, pull your head out, man! If you have to slap a moronic message on a maxi pad, wouldn't it make more sense to say something that's actually pertinent, like 'Put down the Hammer' or 'Vehicular Manslaughter is Wrong'.
Sir, please inform your Accounting Department that, effective immediately, there will be an $8 drop in monthly profits, for I have chosen to take my maxi-pad business elsewhere. And though I will certainly miss your Flex-Wings, I will not for one minute miss your brand of condescending bullshit. And that's a promise I will keep. Always.
Best,
Wendi Aarons
Austin, TX
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