There are only three people in the world who can photograph me. Two of them is my little sister, the budding influencer. And the other is Tausha. Everyone else secretly hates me.
I also commissioned photos of my family. She was absolutely amazing with them. Vivian still asks me how she is doing. A real pro.
Anyway, more about our session. I think she should be the official photographer of me and a couple of billionaires who keep her flush but never ever conflict with my photo session time.
I am literally not equipped to be a modern wife. It’s basically leveled up to “thin baby-making carpenter with film editing experience” and honestly it’s easier to get a PhD.
I have wondered for a long time if there is a term or concept for actors who become so typecast that they start to act as if they actually are that character. Like how that Buffy guy thinks he is a cop. Or how Sam seems to think he is a cowboy.
I know that police unions and such really court their favorite cop actors. Their adulation can lead the actor to believe he is bona fide. But you also see it with fake soldiers, which I wouldn’t think would go over well with actual enlisted people
Because I think that Buffy guy actually believe he can arrest you.
Black people, do you know what Red Dawn is? Because white people are lighting my ass up about it. You’d think it was John Hughes the way they’re carrying on…
I’m getting a few things. One, y’all had paid for cable. Fancy fancy. Two, I am clearly the child of a half Black nationalist Panther who didn’t think the commies were so bad. Three, I went to a Black school. Four, I should watch I Love The 80s more closely. 😂
I know a lot of white stuff! I’m mildly surprised I don’t know anything about this. But then can anyone truly know the wizard??
I just ran into an old college professor at the coffee shop. Let me tell you how memory works. I was looking for my car. I cohost where I parked it. Yet, I saw the profile of a man in a mask from 500 feet and shouted, “Larry Nessler?!” Same person. Same brain. 😂
What a treat! Not only is it one of the small joys of being home. It is also truly awesome to see your old teachers when you turned out okay 💅🏿
I haven’t seen him in nigh on 12 years or so. I remember his classes like they were yesterday. His was the first class where I could *see* the craft of teaching. He was this middle aged white guy teaching at an HBCU. That can go wrong lots of ways, trust me.