billybillybilly

Her name was Rochelle.

(. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .)

On considering the joys of being a eunuch: Not having genitalia makes the genitalia of others much less important.

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Chain smoking is the only thing I'm waking up for at the moment. Speaking of which, someone left a pack of cigarettes over here. If they are yours, do claim them.

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On a creepier, more cryptic, and yet slightly more professional note:

I've been kicking around the idea of a new photo set for a while now. I'll not go into detail about what that idea is, but I did find out that I can shoot a set in color for the approximate cost of a digital set. If you're interested, and feel a bit exhibitionistic, that is.

Let's say though, that it has something to do with airplanes.

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Don't let your wants get in the way of what you need. I'll try to do the same.