So here’s a weird thing that happened. Yesterday’s post
concerned my friend Kristen, who back in college starred in a photo shoot I did for a class project in which I tried to re-create a film press packet. I chose to make a bad slasher movie, which I titled
Creature from the San Andreas Fault. In yesterday’s post, I used one of those photos.
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star vivian lynn pfefferman, unaware of approaching doom |
Weirdly, hours before, someone on Twitter used a different one of those photos. I just found out late tonight.
For the project, we purposefully tried to imitate
Scream. Here’s the original image we used as inspiration.
It’s little more than a weird coincidence, but it is a surprising one considering how I and everyone else in the online world forgot about these photos until now. However, it did remind me of this project that I did more than a decade ago...
For the sake of posterity (and because October is the month we revel in all things spooky-scary), here are the rest of those photos.
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vivian lynn pfefferman, more aware of approaching doom |
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vivian lynn pfefferman, wondering when the mail will come |
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vivan lynn pfefferman, pretending she can read |
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vivian lynn pfefferman, doing her best fay wray |
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best friend patsy pickett, suffering the fate of all slasher movie besties |
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the creature |
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the creature (again) |
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some asshole |
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vivian doing her best IKWYDLS-era j-lo-hew |
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vivian, doing janet leigh |
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vivian, learning how to scream in a shower |
Note: Yes, that is me, fourth from the bottom. No, I don't know why I look like that. Yes, the photos are, in general, very yellowish, but only in mind does it make me look like I have jaundice. No, I don't know why my lips look so pink. I let someone I thought was good with digital photo editing do the color correction — in fact, because college, I paid him in liquor for his services — and I did not question it at the time. Yes, I had hair. Yes, that is a puka shell necklace. No, I do not have any excuses.
Also: No, I don't know why we had that mask or the hatchet.
Regardless, as one intrepid reporter once exclaimed, “Deja voodoo!”
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