But, What I Really Wanna Do Is…
by Gene-o Hamilton
It is ironic that my best job and my worst job was the same job. It was several years ago and I was very new to the Santa Cruz area. I had fallen on hard times and was desperate for money. In my journey of this new weird and wonderful playland of liberal facades I crossed paths with a “professional” photographer, later to be known as Little Leeba and Her Fiery Camera of Death. She saw my destitute circumstance and offered me a position of “male model.”
She assured me everything was on the up and up. At first everything seemed fine. I was living the jet setting lifestyle that I had always dreamed of (swimming pools, movie stars and all that crap). Then one day when I was in a doctor’s office –strictly routine I assure you– I noticed a familiar image illuminating from the magazine rack. It was a picture of me! There I was spread out in all my glory for all to see. I was horrified. The thing that was making me happy somehow had suddenly become the thing that made me feel dirty and ashamed.
I was so overcome with guilt that I dashed from the office never to return. I am still going to therapy three times a week. You see, it appears that Leeba had been selling my images to Republican publications. I share this story in hopes that those who read it and are planning to venture far from home will think twice before blindly accepting offers from questionable characters with cameras. Beware of the contemptuous beast lurking behind the lens.
I now sell artfully produced erotic adventures of wholesome people (PORNO). I am slowly regaining my pride and principles and hope someday to be a director.
No comments:
Post a Comment