sign this.
I said before that photography has stopped being fun as a result of making it "more than just a hobby." Nobody hates all this legal BS, model release forms, and whatever, more than me. I knew this was going to happen sooner or later; I guess I was hoping it would happen later, though.
When I approached the hostess of last night's event asking for permission to take pictures, she curtly barked "I ain't signing s**t" into my face, turned, and walked away. This wonderfully pleasant exchange was witnessed by at least one of her friends. Despite my pleas to drop the matter, news of how rude she was to me spread throughout the night. It got to the bands, to all my friends, to everyone. All I said was that I'm going to continue to have fun the rest of the night, not point my camera at her or any of her damn models, and see how I feel about it the following morning.
Well, here's how I feel about it. If you don't want to sign my model release, that's fine. You don't have to, I don't have to take pictures of you, your band, your show or whatever, and I'm not going to cry over it. There's plenty of other things and people to photograph in this world. However, you also don't need to be rude about it. I don't care how stressed out you are, how badly your night or show is going, or how much work you've been doing all day. In fact, if you're the one promoting/hosting/throwing the party, you should be especially f***ing polite to your guests. You want us to come back. You do want crowds to come to your next show, right? And you don't want to get a reputation for being a f***ing c**t, do you? Believe me, that can't do well for business, b**ch.
And another thing. I used to love the whole techno-industrial "goth" fad. I dug the idea of black skimpy clothing, pale faces, dark eyeliner and lipstick, and dyed black hair done up to look like Robert Smith, I really did. Ah, the eighties were great times, weren't they? But you know what? THAT WAS TWENTY YEARS AGO. Most of us have grown up and started a life. We stopped playing dress-up and pretending "every day is Halloween" years ago. I still dig out my Ministry CDs once in a while, sure, but come on. All I saw last night were a bunch of f***ing idiots who somehow got lost on their way to Neo, prancing around a Lakeview bar in revealing rags that looked like something out of an Ed Wood film, to the amusement of the jeans-and-sweatshirt regulars, and acting all pretentious like they owned the place or something. It was laughable, it really was. What makes it truly pathetic is that you really do think you're hot s**t, that you're better than me and can thus treat me that way, and that your signature is so f***ing valuable you have to protect it and never give it out.
I met you a year ago, and I wish I hadn't now. I didn't realize then what a pretentious b**ch you are. I've already removed you from all my various stupid social networking website friendlists. Not that that matters at all to me or you, because those websites are just as stupid, and I'm fully aware that I'm not that important or necessary to have as a friend or whatever.
This is all a moot point, because my camera's broken anyway. - fixed it.
Update: The subject of this post has since apologized, which is really cool and shows she's a much better person than I may have characterized in this post. Also, I know not everyone shares my opinion of some fashion styles, and my own is pretty damn boring. Yeah, I'm not good at retractions, either, so I hope this will do.
listening to: sonic youth
in my sink: leaves
When I approached the hostess of last night's event asking for permission to take pictures, she curtly barked "I ain't signing s**t" into my face, turned, and walked away. This wonderfully pleasant exchange was witnessed by at least one of her friends. Despite my pleas to drop the matter, news of how rude she was to me spread throughout the night. It got to the bands, to all my friends, to everyone. All I said was that I'm going to continue to have fun the rest of the night, not point my camera at her or any of her damn models, and see how I feel about it the following morning.
Well, here's how I feel about it. If you don't want to sign my model release, that's fine. You don't have to, I don't have to take pictures of you, your band, your show or whatever, and I'm not going to cry over it. There's plenty of other things and people to photograph in this world. However, you also don't need to be rude about it. I don't care how stressed out you are, how badly your night or show is going, or how much work you've been doing all day. In fact, if you're the one promoting/hosting/throwing the party, you should be especially f***ing polite to your guests. You want us to come back. You do want crowds to come to your next show, right? And you don't want to get a reputation for being a f***ing c**t, do you? Believe me, that can't do well for business, b**ch.
And another thing. I used to love the whole techno-industrial "goth" fad. I dug the idea of black skimpy clothing, pale faces, dark eyeliner and lipstick, and dyed black hair done up to look like Robert Smith, I really did. Ah, the eighties were great times, weren't they? But you know what? THAT WAS TWENTY YEARS AGO. Most of us have grown up and started a life. We stopped playing dress-up and pretending "every day is Halloween" years ago. I still dig out my Ministry CDs once in a while, sure, but come on. All I saw last night were a bunch of f***ing idiots who somehow got lost on their way to Neo, prancing around a Lakeview bar in revealing rags that looked like something out of an Ed Wood film, to the amusement of the jeans-and-sweatshirt regulars, and acting all pretentious like they owned the place or something. It was laughable, it really was. What makes it truly pathetic is that you really do think you're hot s**t, that you're better than me and can thus treat me that way, and that your signature is so f***ing valuable you have to protect it and never give it out.
I met you a year ago, and I wish I hadn't now. I didn't realize then what a pretentious b**ch you are. I've already removed you from all my various stupid social networking website friendlists. Not that that matters at all to me or you, because those websites are just as stupid, and I'm fully aware that I'm not that important or necessary to have as a friend or whatever.
Update: The subject of this post has since apologized, which is really cool and shows she's a much better person than I may have characterized in this post. Also, I know not everyone shares my opinion of some fashion styles, and my own is pretty damn boring. Yeah, I'm not good at retractions, either, so I hope this will do.
listening to: sonic youth
in my sink: leaves
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