I generally don’t take photos of wildlife, because I don’t have the right equipment; the most telephoto lens I have is a 100mm macro, where I’d say at least 200mm is needed. Wildlife also tends to be difficult to capture, since the variables are so hard to control (especially with models that don’t understand verbal commands), and the chances fleeting. Every now and then, an opportunity presents itself though.
Some people are hurt by the things I say here. But I make no judgment; I only speak the truth, supported by the facts. So if someone is a stalker who blames her problems on the object of her attentions, or treats her son like a trained animal, or decides to charge friends and roommates for rides to the grocery store, and I document it here, I’m not the one who’s embarrassing them. They do that enough for themselves.
It’s like a documentary about the Holocaust. The filmmakers don’t need to offer an opinion that condemns it. The footage and testimonials speak for themselves.
Sometimes, the people who don’t like what I have to say are so delusional that they supply their own realities, perhaps because they don’t want to be at fault.
They don’t realize it’s the truth that hurts, not me.
She bought me these boxer briefs. Calvin Klein, body cut, lightweight cotton construction.
Until then, all the underwear I had were plaid XS boxers from The Gap that I could only find online, or XXL from Gap Kids, decorated with rockets, and basketballs, and skiers. I didn’t think she’d find anything else that would work on my small frame.
So this is my first pair of boxer briefs, and they fit. My sexy underwear, she would call them. I guess it’s hard to find my other underwear sexy when it’s meant for those 7–14.