Siren’s Song #25 (of 42) Models: Melanie & Jordan. Photo credit: Christopher Maverick ©2012 So initially I was going to write something entirely different here. I was going to complain about people complaining about sports. I was going to complain that people who complain about sports are being stupid. I was…
Day 749 of 365 Again. Mickey and her boyfriend were still here today, so of course I took the opportunity to shoot pics of them in the studio for the Tarot Card deck. Once we were done and they were changing so we could go out to dinner, I decided it might be cool to…
Day 649 of 365 More.
It was a dark and stormy night. Business hadn’t been great. The dames were even worse. You know how it goes. I gave Miss Jones the night off and shut myself up in my office and decided to crawl inside a bottle of Old Number 7 and tried to wait it all out.
I heard the knock at the front door, but with no Miss Jones to answer, I thought maybe if I just stayed quiet whoever it was would go away.
No such luck.
That’s when she walked in. A pretty face, stems up to here and a rack that could cause traffic accidents. The dame wore red. She smelled like money. She said she needed help. She said she could pay.
Her name was Trouble.
Or it might as well have been. I could smell it a mile away. You could have driven a ’49 Olds through the holes in her story. But what was I gonna do? A man could get lost in those eyes for days and I’m a sucker for a pretty face. Besides, this broad would do anything for my help and I hadn’t done the nasty in nearly a week. Sometimes you just gotta roll the dice and hope for the six the hardway. And sometimes you crap out.
My name is Philip Marlowe.
Trouble is my business.
Day 533 of 365 More. People often ask me how Steph feels about me having a constant parade of naked and half naked women running in and out of my studio. Well, this might answer things for you. When Amaya was here last week she left some of her stuff. Her bra and panties, and…
Day 363 of 365 days. A lot of people have asked me if Jack Scoresby is really dead after yesterday’s picture. Of course not. He’s alive and well. Just shorter than he used to be. See… he’s right here. Strangely, after taking his head and absorbing his power, my photo style has changed a little…
Day 282 of 365 days. So there I am, minding my own business, working on a shoot for the tarot project when all of a sudden, my studio was invaded by KGB shock troops who didn’t know the Cold War ended twenty years ago. There was much torture and pressure involved, utilizing a can of…