Wednesday, 4 January 2017

Digital cameras = easy Porn

Yeh these are the bottom of a drawer cos I am lazy and just use my phone.

I am quite the prude. I've never been fond of flashing my bits, even when they were smaller and more pert. Oh sure when I was a gal and newly married, we had an Instamatic camera, but I honestly can't remember using it to take photos of anything other than pics of my lovely Dad at one of his birthday dinners. I am not sure why we had it really, cos it sure didn't produce rudey nudie pics, and I suppose that was what mostly they were used for so all that embarrassment at the chemist could be avoided. The film was stupidly expensive and so even pragmatically I saw very little point in having a gallery of closeups of that which I could see any old time, in the flesh.

But I have always had a good camera and I have chronicled just about every milestone. In 'the olden days' I'd have a camera locked and loaded with film and I was very selective about what to shoot, again cos the developing was so dear, and I can remember the excitement, of finishing a roll and finding there was enough money left at the end of a fortnight to take it off to the chemist. You wait around for a few days and then troop back in, fingers crossed and have a good peak through.

Occasionally there'd be NOTHING. Fuck! I must not have rolled the film on properly or some other glitch and all that cash and all that nervous energy in the waiting. Fuck indeed. And other times I would just sink into the memories of the images...Ahhh. I am so glad to have these photos.

Nowadays, says the old woman, photos are easy and seriously far less exciting. We mostly have thousands and thousands of images clogging up our electronic devices that we never look at. When it's as easy as taking 10 shots of the one flower or one plate of food, or one child sleeping, or one sunset or one whatever, then I reckon a lot of the magic is lost.

But the sort of photos that jumped into my mind this morning that prompted this post are nothing like these memory prodding jobbies.

Nope, I awoke with the thoughts of photos sent to hapless homeowners, from their bastard thieving house robbers, showing said robbers with the houseowners' toothbrushes sticking bristle end in up their bums.

Now this might have been a bit of urban myth, but the stories that did the rounds some years ago, detailing this sort of shitfulness have stayed with me. I mean can you imagine a month after a break in, when all the insurance shit is done and dusted and you have thrown out all the knicky noos that had been gone through and replaced your other bits and pieces that were nicked, and you were just about back to normal  and you get in the mail a photo of your toothbrush handle sticking out of some arsehole?

I reckon it would take a while to work out exactly what the fuck it was, but the dawning of it all would see you retching and crying and reaching for more than the Listerine.

Yep that's the sort of photography that was on my mine this morning, cos we have 3 weekends of Open Houses coming and seriously I have very little faith in people just coming in for a perv.

I know a deviant bloke who gets off going into people's homes and writing rude, abusive, disagreeable shit on the underside of their cupboards, or other obscure places, so when discovered the owners are left trying to solve his disgusting puzzle. I am pretty sure he has done it at my place, but as I caught him once, he may have given it up as a bad joke - here at least.

I am not looking forward to an onslaught of tyre kickers.

I hope there might be a couple of bonafide buyers.

And yes I am hiding the toothbrushes and putting in some movement activated surveillance cameras just in case.