Well, I'm back at it.
As many of my long-time readers know, I have a little thing for people watching, and particularly for people watching wherein are involved either (a) hot guys (subjective, granted) or (b) train wreck people. That latter category includes people I simply can't take my eyes off, either in a good or bad way.
Ultimately, it's that latter category that's going to earn me a lot of extra time spent as bug in my next life. Karma is a boomerang, baby.
Still, I can't help myself, so herein I share the fruits of my clandestine labor. I really need to get either a decent zoom lens or a wide-angle lens, so my victims can't tell I'm actually pointing the camera at them. I never said I was a particularly good stalker, just that I like to look.
In discussions about another topic, Fozzie told me he was waiting to discover my dark secrets, so maybe this is it. I'm a voyeur. Although I think I'm too innocent a voyeur -- more of the people-watching variety -- to actually have it be a dark secret. Perhaps it's more of a little white secret. Or not.
Still, there's no denying it. I have a compulsion to snap clandestine pictures of cute people. The one above and to the left, and the one to the right here were both snapped while my cohorts from The Velvet Prison™ and I were sitting in Central Park having lunch a couple of weeks back.
Sometimes my machinations just plain don't work, as in the case of this fellow. I was chatting way with one of my fellow inmates and he passed by. Despite the fact that my camera was set on automatic "action" mode, it focused on something in the background and left this handsome devil blurry. If I believed in God, I'd think that maybe he was punishing me. But then again, there's so much other stuff for which He could be punishing me, I'm guessing this isn't very high on his list. I think I have to chalk this one up to bad aim.
The same afternoon I caught Blurry Guy, my fellow inmate pointed out this young lady as a sure-fire winner in the latter category above. I have to say, in a different time and a different place in my life, I might have dug this chick's ensemble. Just goes to show that I'm probably getting old.
Speaking of outgrowing the styles of your youth, I present you with this lady or, as I like to think of her, Elvis Has Not Left the Building, He's Just Had a Sex Change. I'm not saying. I'm just saying.
Then again, it's important to note that I'm hardly in a position to make fun of these people -- unless I include myself, since I'm more often than not wearing a shirt that's two years out of date, and khakis that I bought in a time out of memory. And I do. Include myself, that is. I'm so incredibly not hip, I sometimes fear that my Living in New York card will be revoked.
Watch out, New York. I'm stalking you.
As many of my long-time readers know, I have a little thing for people watching, and particularly for people watching wherein are involved either (a) hot guys (subjective, granted) or (b) train wreck people. That latter category includes people I simply can't take my eyes off, either in a good or bad way.
Ultimately, it's that latter category that's going to earn me a lot of extra time spent as bug in my next life. Karma is a boomerang, baby.
Still, I can't help myself, so herein I share the fruits of my clandestine labor. I really need to get either a decent zoom lens or a wide-angle lens, so my victims can't tell I'm actually pointing the camera at them. I never said I was a particularly good stalker, just that I like to look.
In discussions about another topic, Fozzie told me he was waiting to discover my dark secrets, so maybe this is it. I'm a voyeur. Although I think I'm too innocent a voyeur -- more of the people-watching variety -- to actually have it be a dark secret. Perhaps it's more of a little white secret. Or not.Still, there's no denying it. I have a compulsion to snap clandestine pictures of cute people. The one above and to the left, and the one to the right here were both snapped while my cohorts from The Velvet Prison™ and I were sitting in Central Park having lunch a couple of weeks back.Sometimes my machinations just plain don't work, as in the case of this fellow. I was chatting way with one of my fellow inmates and he passed by. Despite the fact that my camera was set on automatic "action" mode, it focused on something in the background and left this handsome devil blurry. If I believed in God, I'd think that maybe he was punishing me. But then again, there's so much other stuff for which He could be punishing me, I'm guessing this isn't very high on his list. I think I have to chalk this one up to bad aim.The same afternoon I caught Blurry Guy, my fellow inmate pointed out this young lady as a sure-fire winner in the latter category above. I have to say, in a different time and a different place in my life, I might have dug this chick's ensemble. Just goes to show that I'm probably getting old.Speaking of outgrowing the styles of your youth, I present you with this lady or, as I like to think of her, Elvis Has Not Left the Building, He's Just Had a Sex Change. I'm not saying. I'm just saying.Then again, it's important to note that I'm hardly in a position to make fun of these people -- unless I include myself, since I'm more often than not wearing a shirt that's two years out of date, and khakis that I bought in a time out of memory. And I do. Include myself, that is. I'm so incredibly not hip, I sometimes fear that my Living in New York card will be revoked.Watch out, New York. I'm stalking you.
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