Press Photaux Pas (It's French.)

I'm not perfect.

It's true.

I know what you're saying.

"What? You're a dirty, dirty liar, Tim. You're obviously perfect. I mean, look at you. The way you string together six or seven hyperbolic and often misused adjectives in a row to explain even the most mundane aspect of your life? It's like watching a sunset with words--a beauteous, illustrious, stunning, ravishing, sublime, pulchritudinous sunset."

But sorry, mom.

I've got many shortcomings--not the least of which is my inability to blog as often as our AP web enforcers suggest (violently demand).

So I'm implementing a weekly column here in this very blog (because thinking of blog subjects is the most physically and emotionally draining activity one can engage in next to house painting).

So here's how this is gonna work, friend.

We at AP are inundated with press kits--hundreds upon hundreds of press kits. Especially me since I deal with all of our unsigned band submissions (which, judging by the response to my last blog entry, I should never speak of again.) So each week, I'm going to show you one press photo and the story (I believe) lies beneath.

(For proof of my aforementioned fallibility, look no further than the title of this blog.)

Here we go:

Obvious Faux Pas:

• Three out of four pleather-clad members are clearly angry that the photographer decided the best location for their dark and sinister press shot was in the park overlooking their town smack in the middle of the busiest part of the Strawberry Festival, while the drummer (far left) is quite delighted to be getting a little sun before she has to pick up Madison from soccer.


• Guitarist is on the brink of tears after a traumatic velociraptor attack that nearly claimed her Skid Row T-shirt and turned the tips of her hair fluorescent pink.


• Clearly not a band at all, but instead: A covert, elite, anti-terrorism unit that relies on their feminine wiles to engage the enemy in compromising positions and then strike using their cunning and primary mission specialties (Team leader Viper is a former rogue fighter pilot trained in WWII German aerial maneuvers but was court marshaled for refusing to fly in anything but pleather bodices; Diminutive espionage specialist Banshee is a computer hacking prodigy who passed up a full scholarship at MIT and a $25,000 contract with Ford Modeling Agency in order to dedicate her time to cracking the Hot Topic mainframe; Weapons specialist and token brunette Dusty uses her innate psychic abilities and street smarts to outwit her enemies with sultriness and sass; and the soft-spoken, yet strong-armed blond Amazon is haunted by the memories of seeing her mother--the squad leader of this unit's predecessor [Refer to Image 1B]--killed in a tragic fur-related accident. Together, they form the most dangerous fighting force known to man: Cockpit.

Image 1B:

Now you try one.

What the Gerard Way is going on here?