Your dad was a photographer before you were and he’s got the lens collection to prove it. He was a f-stop ninja with a fifth degree black belt camera strap. He’s never missed a shot, including the shots he missed. His camera was an accessory to all of his illicit activities, and if it could speak, it would need counseling for the things that it has seen and been part of.
So hipsters, when shooting shitty instagr.am shots of your hungover brunch and calling yourself a real photographer, remember this…
Your dad would never waste film on food because he was too busy capturing lady magic.
P.S. That shoe box of old photos labeled, “Christmas of ‘69” isn’t full of the photos you think it would be.
Thanks to Annarosebeck on tumblr for the photo.
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