To what extreme do you bloggers go to get that photo into your story? Will you drive by a Ripley’s Believe It Or Not-type scene and think, “Wow, that woulda made a good visual aid to put on my blog”, but you don’t actually stop and take that picture? Or are you some stalking paparazzi wannabe, living on the edge, keeping your camera with you at all times, should an unbelievable photo op present itself?
Fellow humor blogger Johnny Virgil of 15 minute lunch, does not seem to be the paparazzi type. If he misses that cool shot, he makes up for it with PhotoShop, as in his lemonade post .
I, however, do not yet have the mad Photoshop skills of Mr. Virgil, so I must make due with the stalker approach, pulling over in heavy L.A. traffic, risking my life so that I can bring the news to you, dear reader.
NGIP News! —- Give us an IP address, we’ll give you the world!
For example, a couple of days ago, I saw this:
Just in case the writing at the bottom is too small, it says, “No Parking On Sidewalk”. You know, next to the vehicle on the sidewalk.
I am such a chicken when it comes to confrontation, that I nearly had a heart attack when some guy came out of the nearby store and asked what I was doing taking pictures. I mean this thing is out on a public sidewalk, yet I felt like I was a peeping Tom caught in the act of some voyeuristic through-the-window shot snapping.
As a child I was fearful of authority, mortified if singled out in front of people. I would never NEVER test my boundaries. Because of this I was rewarded with virtually zero punishment and an incredibly boring childhood. But this – this horrible potential conflict…EEK! My adrenaline-fueled blood raced through my body preventing me from thinking calmly. I did manage to panic, however, rendering me rather mute and dumb for the ensuing conversation:
Stranger: “What are you doing?”
Me: “Huh?”
Stranger: “Are you taking a picture of my sign? My car?”
Me: “Uhhhh……”
and so on….
After getting a hold of myself, I tried to act like what I was doing was not against the law or anything. I then realized that this guy thought I was taking a picture of his car because I might want to buy it. He said he forgot to put the FOR SALE sign on it and began to point out the low mileage and pitching other desirable features. I acted semi-interested – it was the least I could do after violating his…something or other. What the hell was I violating, anyway? Nothing, right? Nevertheless, I was anxious.
Once I realized that he was not going to yell at me and confiscate my camera like a bully and make me cry, I leaned away as if to leave. When I feel overwhelmingly guilty, I can’t make up a simple lie like, “I’ve got a thing, see ya!” I will just stand there like an idiot. It must be that I feel like I deserve whatever punishment is about to be doled out. Because I crossed that line, that boundary I would never have approached in my innocent and ignorant youth.
I was still a little shaky when I climbed into my car, thankful to be alive, but I’ll bet the experience shaved a few days off my life. Like skydiving. That paparazzi stuff is too exciting for me.
I gotta learn Photoshop.
