Photo note: My digital camera charger was stolen (why, I don’t know) and I’ve run out of batteries. At the same time, I can’t seem to find a place that can scan film slides onto CD in Sao Paulo. Until I resolve either problem, I’ll be pulling photos out of my archives. These are from Central Onomichi, Japan.

My senior year of college I was editing for our campus paper. As the work was uncomfortably slow, I usually had at least two handles of Black Velvet in my desk at all times, and spent most of my evening in my office getting drunk during production. Send an article to copy? Take a shot. Lay out a photo and write the cutline? Two shots. Send a page to the printers full of offensive headlines? Shit, time for handle pulls.

One of our news editors worked at a desk right outside my office. She’s six feet tall, blonde and has a serious addiction to Jameson. In essence, my dream girl. I’m pretty bad at openly hitting on women, so I usually just try to woo them with zaniness and wit until suddenly we’re naked. So it went at work.