I'm sorry.
I'd like to tell you about my latest job - really, I would. Although it's hardly earth-shattering stuff, I'd like to tell you who I photographed, where, how, when - but when it comes to 'why', it all becomes clear.
Computer says no.
Well, not the computer exactly, but a missive from The Missile 'advised' me of IP rights, and asked me to embargo the image release until publication date. Which is next Friday.
So as disappointed as I know you must be (?), you'll have to wait until then. Kinda like two weeks before Christmas, but without the joy of unwrapping presents, eating/drinking yourself beyond sensible loading limits, and getting something you actually want/need.
What I will let slip is that instead of the photo shoot being harassed and scrutinised by pedestrians, we were left relatively alone as everyone's attention was focussed on three muscular guys wearing red Speedos, handing out condom-covered bananas. At 0815am. No, really. Togs, togs, togs - undies.
No comments:
Post a Comment