Jabari, jabari, jabari....

One of the hardest things about my work is having to stare all day at perfect, nude men and Jabari was very nearly the final straw. If he had been even slightly more attractive, my fragile brain may well have snapped under the pressure and I would have chucked this life of toil to spend the rest of my days as a volunteer firefighter. I would, of course, volunteer to hose down the firefighters. It's a hot, sweaty job and I'm happy to do my part for America.
My friend Dot had mentioned Jabari's name to me before, always in tones of hushed awe, but it wasn't until Jabari was standing, in the (gloriously smooth and supple) flesh in my studio that I understood. My jaw dropped as my libido rose. Dot photographed Jabari while I took up my own camera and played 'backup'. You know, just in case Dot couldn't get anything good. I am nothing if not helpful.