Millenial Math®

Let’s start out with a word problem:

Xander has $20. Xander wants to buy a box of white wine at Trader Joes. The Wine is $10. On the way to Trader Joes, Xander finds a Trader Joes gift card in his tweed blazer with $5 on it. How much money does Xander have to spend?
A. $20

B. $25

C. $15

D. $35

B? Nope! Much like a text message from your ex-girlfriend at 3am, the only answer is D. The answer is always D.

“But how?! I’m not Whinnie Cooper, but I’m sure 20+5 don’t equal 35.” See your problem is that you are doing math. Math is hard. Math is dumb. You need Millennial Math®. This is the tried and true method of money management that everyone born after 1980 uses. Let’s start over:

So Xander has $20 to spend (pay day is in 3 days), he adds $5 via the remains of a gift card he won at a trivia night ($1 PBR, $2 Bourbon until the game starts), so that’s $25. Still with me? Good. Ok, so the box of TJ’s white is $10, so he should have $15, BUT he had a $5 gift card. So he saved $5 on the $10 purchase, leaving him with $5 profit. Now, he had originally intended to spend $10, but only spent $5, so he can spend that extra $5 guilt free, leaving him with $35 to spend!

But where does that 5 on the end come from?

That’s the profit! Remember, money saved is money earned, LITERALLY. So you saved $5 which means you gained $5; add them together and you get $10! 

You can spend that. You WILL spend that - IMMEDIATELY. Get to the cookie butter - quick, before you brain gets a handle on the situation! Here, distract it with Instagram. Soothing filters.

As you see anything is possible with Millennial Math®, anything except a savings account.

Millennial Math® - Always Count on It™

Engagement Photos: All of the chalkboards!

Engagement photos are odd in both concept and application. "You're getting married, awesome! Now go take pictures on a train! Don't forget the chalkboards."

Do you two spend lots of time on trains, or sitting on wooden benches in the middle of fields? Are you that quirky couple known for sharing a sweater on train tracks? Adorbs.

Take pictures that reflect your actual relationship, like watching Scandal and eating Taco Bell, or being too gassy to have sex. Maybe meeting for the first time, kinda blackout at a bar on Cinco de Mayo.

"He was making out with my friend and then we all got kebabs. She got super sick and passed out in the cab. I couldn't find my cell phone, and he helped me look, so we had a chance to talk. He was kinda nice so I gave him a hand job. We got brunch the next day.

SAVE THE DATE!"

There you go. Fixed.

Of all the engagement photos I have slugged through to get us here this is by far my most favorite.

Maria & James' shoot over at Green Wedding Shoes had this one. Two people, standing in a field, BUT they are wearing what you'd wear to the office on a Tuesday and drinking a beverage out of glass bottles. That's it. That is IT. This is something you can frame and look at 60 years from now and remember every single detail about your relationship with this person. Someone you can stand around with after work and drink.

HAIL to the ______ Skins!

So about the Redskins name change.

For me there are a few things to consider;

A. Is the name racist?

B. Was it intended to be?

C. If yes, than is it STILL racist?

D. If yes, is it SO racist that it should be changed?

Ok now get out your score cards…

A. YES, for the love of everything, YES! CHRIST ALMIGHTY!

B. Doesn't matter. Is.

C. FUCKING YES!

D. Of course!

"But the Redskins have a nearly century long history of a deep connection with millions of fans.” So? No seriously, so?! Protip: The term Redskin was racist 80 years ago and if something was considered racist 80 YEARS AGO, you can be pretty damn certain it is racist now.

"But most Native Americans don't seem to mind." Well, most is not all, and some that don't seem to mind aren't even native American. I'm sure most wouldn't mind a name change either.

Look at it this way. If the team was founded 80 years ago and called The Washington Negroes, you could make the argument that at the time Negro was a preferred term for many black people. It was the “right” word. In that case, should we change it to the Washington African Americans (NEVER the Washington Blacks)? Well that would be a solid debate (obviously we should).  Ok, now imagine 80 years ago the team was founded and called The Washington Sambos. Would you HONESTLY make the argument TODAY that The Washington Sambos has a deep 80 year history and is meant to honor black people and that no racism or malice should be associated with the name? Honestly… would you get on your Facebooks and Twitters and call the notion of a name change “PC crap” or tell people to “Get over it.” Some of you would because you’re pieces of shit, but most of you would find the idea of NOT changing it ridiculous.

Also, why the name Redskins? The NFL is filled with team names like The Vikings, The Cowboys, etc. Fierce names for fierce teams. They are named after groups known for their strength, cunning, fortitude and aggression. "Redskins fits right in! See! So there! Suck it you PC sissies!" Yeah... It would be the same maybe if those teams were called The Raping Plunderers or The Cattle Thieves, but I don't think they would have quite the same whimsical charm. 

Do you know what will happen if The Redskins become The Skins or the Warriors or one of the many other great options? 1. It's Football and you love it, so you will keep loving it. 2. All of the team memorabilia you have will instantly become more valuable. 3. The nation's capitol, the seat of the United States government and power, wouldn't have a backwards bigoted name representing it. They already have the Nationals and the Capitols and it's not like the U.S. Government has had a super great relationship with Native Americans.

There were a very large group of people that lived in this country and we wanted to live here too, but didn’t want them to live here anymore, so we made them just not live anymore and now we honor them with a mean nickname. Seems legit. It's like middle school only with (slightly more) genocide.

"As Allison as the nose on Plain's face."

We need to talk about Allison "Her" Williams, again, forever. Not really.

So I'm clicking around on the old Internet with misogynistic impunity due to my male rape privilege and on old Jezebel (not to say that age or culturally designated aesthetic appeal defines you Jezebel. You are a complete person and I respect you and value you as a fellow human being) and there I see a piece on GIRLS star and eternal last bridesmaid to be chosen, Allison Williams, a.k.a. "That one". So she works on the TV. That's her profession and I don't know why. She occasionally, just as we all do, runs across some smug dickbag that is SO extra proud that they don't own a TV. Jezebel, who I assumed needed something legitimate to give their interns to do now that the jig is up, wrote an article about it. So when Allison "No, I meant the other one" Williams, who again, inexplicably has a career on scripted television, meets one of these stoic TV deniers, does the following:

“I always say very dryly and very honestly, ‘You should invest in one. I’m not even saying you would necessarily like our show. But TV is so good right now.’”

That's it. That all of it. That is the article. That is her reaction. That's everything. It's a high school HJ and you don't even get to finish.

I don't... Why do people like her so much?! She is so...just there. She is your pretty friend, not GORGEOUS, just pretty. "She's nice". The one you have to give really specific, yet vague compliments to, because she's hard to describe, because there is nothing really to describe...

"She's got great skin on her elbows."

"She likes sandwiches, I think."

"She's really good at proofreading."

She's a basic bitch; the most basic of basic bitches. She exists. I'm sure she's a lovely person and that's the problem, I feel like that the only thing you can say about her; that you feel like she's lovely. Ann Veal Lovely

OK I'm done.

Weddings: Director's Cut

I'm not getting married, nor is there a wave of wedding ceremonies sweeping the nation like coconut oil. IT MAKES VEGAN FOOD EDIBLE! And is good for the skin...

Nay, nay, I speak just of weddings. Your wedding. All of your weddings! YOU! They are entirely too long in existence. Like by 6 months. Here's why:

OK, so he/she/they popped the question! He/she/they said yes! ZOMGWRGTNMUREED! Awesome! I'm genuinely happy for you, especially if I'm invited, and especially if I'm not in the ceremony. Who needs that kind of stress?! I'm tryna get drunk and refuse to do the Cha Cha Slide out of principle.
OK, I SUUUUPER want to be in your ceremony because I have all sorts of self esteem issues and I assign value to myself based on my perceived worth to other people. Plus it's like being a wedding VIP; you get a limo ride and take pictures in a park or field, in the most natural positions (WE'RE WALKING!).

But I digress, as I am wont to do. Your wedding exists past the date and time so delicately embossed in Elvish onto the lovely rose quartz hued card stock invitations you took the time to mail to me after asking me for my address in an email that I ignored. And a text message that I ignored. And a Facebook message that I ignored... for a month. #digression How? Why? Pictures.

So weddings are basically Proms for adults, (also this is the coolest prom picture ever) only the suits fit better and your breasts can actually fill out your strapless dress. Like prom there is a King and Queen and you are probably just as drunk. Accept for me, because I didn't drink in Highschool because I was going places. Was... *stares off into the horizon* Also like prom no less than 25 pictures are taken every 30 minutes. The photographer is taking pictures of the food and the guests and the shoes and the rings and the hair and the champagne and the dress and of a bowtie. The guests are taking pictures of all of the same things, only with their phones, so everything is nice and mediocre. There are pictures of the ceremony before it starts, followed by as it's going on, followed by awkward side angled shots of the happy couple walking down the aisle. BUBBLES OUTSIDE! No time for rice! It kills the birds with its deliciousness. PICTURES OF THIS! Filters! Upload!

The wedding party is spirited away to the aforementioned park or field or where ever for fun pictures of them walking, or creepily eying the happy couple as they share a tender kiss; all the while the guest go somewhere and start to get drunk(er). And of course, take more pictures! There are a bunch of people you haven't seen in years... or hours. AND YOU ARE IN FANCY CLOTHES! Look at that, a pocket square. Fuck you and your empty pocket, you syphilitic plebeian. My pocket stays warm with it's tiny doll blanket folded ever so gently with my own hands and a YouTube tutorial. TAKE A PICTURE!

Reception happens. There are dancing introductions, first dances, bridal party dances, line dances, lines at the bar, lines to the bathroom, lines in the bathroom and limes with tequila. The wedding photographer is busting it all business casj and sensible shoes - they gotta move. The guests however have abandoned all hope. Shirt tails and bare feet all the way. And pictures. Memories!

Here I am, checking my media socially and wouldn't you know it, it's the Derpina-Derp wedding day. It starts slow. Just a few Facebook statuses (stati?) about it. No problem. Supes norm. Then the pictures start rolling in. Instagram, Twitter, straight up unfiltered Facebook or even Google+. All day. The entire day. This is usually capped off with a one minute and twenty three second long shaky phone camera clip of everyone dancing and singling along to whatever the "h0t trak" of the day is. For this example it shall be Baauer's Harlem Shake of YouTube fame. It doesn't matter actually because all anyone can hear is the deafening screams of the person doing the recording. WEDDING DAY IS OVER! Upload that!

But it's not over, because over the next 7 to 10 days my feed will be flooded with more and more pictures sent to the Internet from the iPhones and Galaxys. Windows Phone? Hell, Blackberries too. Same pictures, different angles. Different stages of blinking. Different amounts of booze spilled onto clothing. Wedding week is over! NOPE! People start commenting and tagging and re-tagging. They. Keep. Popping. Up. It's been like 3 months. Heavenly hell! It's OK though because amateur hour is over. Now it's time for the Photographer to get in the game. Being a professional it's just one post, elegant and straight forward. Being the Internet this is quickly shared. 470 times over two months, by about 6 people. The bride and her cackle of bridesmaids, with each comment - each increasing the extremity of their delight at seeing how beautiful their friends are and the number of exclamation points expressing it. Profile pictures are changed and then changed again, and then again. Cover photos are updated (We're still walking!!!). Fin.

Until the 1st anniversary. Then it's time to walk down memory lane. Side by side with a complete disregard for traffic safety.

I don't even remember when your wedding was anymore. Was it yesterday? I'm pretty sure it was warm when it happened. It was warm yesterday though. Also, ZOMG!!
 

www.curetonphoto.com