I shot these gorgeous photos of my OLDER brothers that I like refer to as Charles Manson Jr. (top one) and Einstein’s Younger Brother (bottom one). I like to refer to my OLDER brothers with these monikers because of how NICE they treated me when I was growing up telling me that I was adopted and my parents had found me in a trash can, and if I wasn't good they were going to put me right back into the trash can. Oh, also we lived in racially charged
Sometimes my brain is still 12 years old.
Dad: Lee Ann will you take an ID photo of your brothers for their campground membership card with your new fangled camera. (Notice how parents always use your FULL name)
Me: Sure Dad… (he didn’t say it had to be a nice photo)
Me: Dave.. Mike.. line up over there (I point to a shadowy part of a wall and line them up like they are on the firing squad)
Me: o.k. hold still Mike (as I inch lower and lower and lower so he looks like he has a nice double chin, should I tell him to comb his hair? Naw! NotMyProblem)
Me: O.K. Dave, hold still while I zoom in real close and give me a nice smile… (PSYCHO!)
CLICK - one shot. Not the usual click click click, turn your head this way, o.k. part your lips slightly, lower your chin, raise your chin, look at me, look away from me. Just one click.
Later that day Dad wants to get the photos off the camera… being the super genius computer guy that my dad is, I give him the software CD, cables and camera and I go hide in the livingroom under the couch.
Dad: Ugh! Arrrrr! Honey we’re going to have to reshoot these. Michael didn’t even comb his hair.
Me: bwahahahaha (my evilest laugh) Something wrong? (I call from under the couch)
Dad: Your Mother is going to have to call Your Brothers and take new photos. These are TEERRRRRRIBLE.
Mom: Let me see... (she looks at them) They are what they are. Michael didn't comb his hair, but that's how he looks. And David, well, that's just David.
Dad: But these are ID cards that they will have for a long time...
(Payback is a biotch.)