Hey. I blogged earlier and posted it to epinw but it evaporated into thin air - perhaps because it was all about boobies. Photographed two more sets for my upcoming charitable delving into the world of bra designing for the upcoming charity boob-a-thon called BRAvo for Women's Stories for survivors of breast cancer and for breast cancer research.
And for this girlie pals graciously doffed tops.
I will be cutting small black & white photos into elliptical shapes, grommeting them (excellent little red grommets I found this week) together and thin red ribboning them together.
The straps will be strips of contact sheets.
Where nipples appear I'm adhering tiny faux rubies.
Onwards.
Watched a moment of CNN and saw a segment on a man traveling to become a human shield in Afghanistan. Would I do this? Although I agree with the sentiment I think of the speedfreak motherfuckers who kill Canadians, innocents and each other and think perhaps not.
Chris Gallant is doing a short doc and looking for volunteers so I said I have about of 20 seconds of opinion that I'm willing to share with him for the project.
The Jayhawks canceled for Mon. night which has Reese in a tailspin. One of the guys in the band had a heart disease. Another argument for yoga, or exercise.
Ryan Adams warbles out at me before I head out for the evening's art and music and booze destinations.
Boobs and boobs of love.

Look, defenestration's no joke.
That movie last night, The Hours (or, as I've lovingly redubbed it - The Horrors), involved some minor defenestration. Any movie that begins and ends with dreamy footage of Virginia Woolf's river suicide is going at your heartstrings with a scalpel. I realized about 20 minutes into The Hours/Horrors that I was in a chick flick and I have a strict No Chick Flick Policy. At any moment I expected Julia Roberts and her teeth to come sashaying into a well-styled scene. I did like the movie, one of our little watching throng wept uproariously at it.
At a late hour the phone rang. Anne Loomis Roberts.
Quite a surprise, pleasant present.
She divulged the call was prompted by her concurrent viewing of Vinny's Buffalo 66 so, of course, I had to re-regale her with my favorite VG stories.
And somehow we always seem to reinvestigate our private and shared horrors during our time at the private girlie school. Still wondering, after all these years, Just what in hell was that.
Evil anti-choice folks to descend upon the Middling City today.
Armed with camera for hateful doc I will be for non-violent shooting, contrary to their terroristic style.
Choice, always, love.

The weekend's rock & roll notes:
1. Slobbered all over the front of Showplace's stage during Jon Spencer's set last night. He rocked those skinny leather pants like nobody's beeswax - jumping to and from the mic in his trademarked manner, like coming up for air from under water. Only one boy colleague was there and we both tossed on our flashes as the lights at the venue completely suck. Opening act, The Black Keys, apparently only had a single song, played about twelve or so times. Jon Spencer, yum.
2. The weekend's music purchases = Barrrrrrrry White All-Time Greatest Hits (for pending Red Dinner when I cook all red food and the house is lit all red and the house is crammed with guests wearing, what else, their best crimson ensembles), Matthew Good Band Beautiful Midnight, Damon & Naomi Song to the Siren (former 2/3 of all-time fav Galaxie 500) and The Jesus and Mary Chain 21 Singles (enough span of time between me and one of the x's to be able to enjoy JMC again).
3. I apparently emasculated Simon Chardiet of Simon and the Bar Sinisters so during his gig, visited with Doug who I rescued from the terrifying Middling City train stop, and afterwards, he would not acknowledge us as I gave him $10 for gas money last time he was in town. But Doug and I tipsily helped ourselves to his rock star pizza afterwards saying Well screw Simon, eat up!
4. Saw one of the Middling City's better new bands, Alla, Saturday amid stops far and wide and that's the band that my former hairstylist, Jon, was formerly in before he prima donna'd out and alienated the girls on guitar and drums. Thinking that Jon will be furious and possibly not speak to me (again) for a few years when he sees Alla in my photo column.
5. There's hope that the music scene here is not absolutely dwindling to nothing with the announcement of a few good shows like BB King, Tori and the Goos (as openers with Bon Jovi). Think at the Goo/Bon Jovi gig everyone will see that Johnny and BJ have the same hair do.
End of rock notes, time to drink some day old coffee and attack deadlines with gusto.
Blues explosion love.