Fun with model.

I was looking around the other day while sitting at my desk and it dawned on me what an interesting situation I have. It seems completely normal to me but I guess I am not the most normal of guys. Nor do I live in a normal place. Maybe I am completely pretentious. Maybe its just the world I live in here at BOXeight. Or maybe I just have a really cool girlfriend that happens to be a great model. And she just happens to like to clean. You tell me.

Ben

Fly Sex

I saw flies having sex on my shoe today as I smoked a cigarette in my
backyard. No pictures to prove, so you will have to take my word for it.

- ben

Katrina Gets a Haircut

After much debate over the future of her hair, it was finally cut. Switchblade knife I bought in Normandy to stab french boys that would steal my food now ground down to a sharp edge upon the bench grinder in my workshop finally put to some use to cut somebody. Enjoy.

Ben

I went somewhere in my head today. Here are the pictures.

I wake up. 8:00. 8:30 I sit. Sit at my desk where refuse to leave into the cold wind of today. I am behind. Have to retouch. Get shit done for other people. Shit I don't care to do but do anyway because that's just the way it is today. 

Cigarette for breakfast followed by leftover Chinese food from last night before movies drifted me to sleep. I try to respond to emails. I can barely type. I can barely sit up. I am shaking. Can't stop. Somewhere my diet has gone dreadfully wrong. Diet of diet pepsi. Cigarettes. The occasional New Peking delivery when I am too lazy to walk to the kitchen. As if it were far. My phone is closer. And so is the menu. 

Back to the photos. Photos. 

Photoshop opens and I begin. Get bored by 5 and reminisce. Going through photos from trips. Remembering the things I have done and the people I have done it with. 184th. Scotland.  Coney Island. Palm Springs. Countless trips across the country in cars. All these scattered memories, jumbled in folders on  a hard drive. Hard drives. More than one. Too much shit to look through. Constantly distracted. Send me this file. Where is my model for tomorrow. Why cant you send me the package I asked for. 

Back to the emails. Emails. 

Shakily I type. Send files. Request girls. Book planes. Trip to LA again. I just left but on my way back. Mind drifts back to other places and back into the jumbled files. Somewhere in this mess is a book to be published. In all this time I have I never make the time. So, here are some pictures that will one day be in a book. If I ever get the time.