I’m Joey Harrison, and I’m a highly regarded collector of amazing photographs by plump, balding, 20-something photographers. That, of course, led me to Eddy Pula, an amazing photographer who makes some of the plumpest, baldest photographs imaginable.
Perhaps you are a collector yourself. Perhaps you have a few Ansel Adams prints in a shoebox somewhere in the attic. Well, that’s a red flag right there. Ansel Adams is a pissant. You need some fresh Pulas for your precious shoebox. Better yet, put ’em on the wall where you can smell the freshness and marvel over their mastery. Eddy’s selling ’em cheap because he needs the money for crack.
Scratch that. Eddy just informed me that when he says “crack,” he means film. That is just how addicted he is to making pictures. So when I inquired about the possibility of acquiring one of his prints, he directed me to send an unmarked package full of crack — I mean film — to his PO box in Islamabad. And my request for a single measly print was generously answered with a pile of prints so fresh, so masterful, so HOT, that my cataloging staff had to wear asbestos gloves.
If you don’t have a refrigerator full of film, Eddy will probably accept cash. So …
Send some moolah and get a Pula
(Eddy, can I get another print in exchange for that genius marketing slogan?)
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karapture 