Wake Me Up Before You Slow-Mo...

Last time I saw Chris Daughtry, he was about to conquer the world. But judging from this picture, he's obviously fallen on hard times. I mean, look at those shoes! You'd think with a few gajillion records sold, dude could afford some new kicks. Hmmm? What's that? Oh... you're right. That ain't Daughtry; it's everyone's favorite Gulf Coast photog Rick Portier - relaxing in the back of a parked live truck. Nothing unusual about that. Hell, every news shooter knows when to ditch the sticks, when to dissolve, when to snuggle up with his light kit and catch a few Z's. It's a skill I picked up in The Nav, when even the briefest reprieve from my radar station was often spent sleeping in some dusty compartment I was supposed to be cleaning. It's sure served me well since then. Just ask any reporter who's camped out with me hours before a live shot. No sooner can they skip past the footage and look at their standup than I'm slumped over the steering wheel, sawing logs and dreaming of a literary career. It ain't pretty, but neither is watching Rex McSquarejaw dissect his on-camera spiel like it was the freakin' Zapruder film. That's why I throw myself into a lunch-induced stupor every chance I get. How else am I gonna stay up all night and slather the web in self-absorption? Don't bother answering - just wake up the old 'polisher before the director punches up his shot, would ya? Fella's got turds to feed...