Paps day out

Click click click Pop click. Music, or what might be as close to music to my ears. The mechanics of an old-fashioned camera. Shutters and all. I preferred to snap a few shots with my little Wynona (that's what I call my early 90s Konica Minolta NP-200). Wynona never disappointed. She was reliable and dependable, unlike the profession in which I choose to use her.

Across the street, in between the branches of a cedar tree I can just make out Fusha and her new husband Barey Hart eating some over-priced bird food. They still have that wedded-bliss shit dripping off them like last nights....errr..Nice wedding anyway. Some great photos, but now everyone wants to be on the dl. Sadly, that's not how my job rolls.

They throw up their hands. "Hey we're eating here," they say. They're craving to fill themselves up with other's adoration. Their mouths say no, but their publicist says yes. And I learned a long time ago to always listen to the PR rep. Happy to see their next story on page 6, I was always will to oblige, but seeing these vacant faces, wearing their best smiles, their tightest foreheads and $375 manicures, drove home the fact that no one here was immune to the cancer, we in the business call fame.

Fame is quite the temptress. Nasty thing too. Get you all tied up inside, hoping for someone like me to 'catch' you in the most candid way. Wynona has trapped a few of those so-called starlets in many a compromising situations, starlets that hop fame will infect them. The pictures are always priceless to me. Brit-Brit with dip running down her face. Chris-Tina Sepulria's water breaking in Juicy Couture. Barbra Smathers of the View not wearing panties (eeww). Wynona was not bias. And even though one might think fame was bias, she wasn't. It was a world here, unlike anywhere else. We normal mortals brushed elbows with the gods and goddesses, and somehow made it out alive. But Fame devoured those that remained.

Click Click Flash Pop. Wynona snagged Fusha dipping in for a smooch from her new man. Cha-ching. That's what this business is all about. Another dollar shot.

After all Fame is a bitch who doesn't rest on her laurels, and me and Wynona...we're just paps out her keeping the bitch up all night long.

Or at least until she calls the cops.