F*cktards in Power

No, let me rephrase that: Fucktards Paymasters.

I just got a call telling me that a three-day recce of 27 locations has just been reduced to just two days.

Two days.

It was already difficult enough having just three days for 27 locations... But no, two (TWO!) fuckin' days.

You know what? Anyone who's going to be placed on the board of directors for any company, especially quasi-government ones, ought to be made to go through the following before they get confirmed:

1. Undergo some training as an Army scout. Preferably where they get to enjoy everything wonderful about the POW course. If they don't survive, they're probably not meant to be on the board of directors in the first place.

2. Then, when they've recovered from their stay in hospital, they should be made to go on a few of these recce sessions with a photographer, carrying all his shit for him, and seeing what happens on a fucking recce for themselves.

Do they think we just go around, look at the sights, maybe pick up a chick or two? Do they think we fucking do this to enjoy the weather? It's 27 locations, you morons! That makes it twelve locations per day. Think about it: travelling time (driving in Singapore? Damn), time spent looking at all the angles at each place, getting a vibe of the place to see if it fits into the intent of the shot. Hell, it takes me three days to get a feel of a foreign country before I even start shooting. And I'm a fucking holiday!

Goddamn. Two days?

What the hell are they expecting?

And just because they fucking balked at having to pay for three days' recce. Maybe if they could pay for some R&D into transporter technology, maybe that'll make it possible.

Morons.

Sigh. There goes sleep.