May 13, 2011
Meet the Flockers : Flannery Scroggins
Greetings, flock. Thanks for welcoming me into the fold. I’ve met several of you — and was raised by a couple of you — so it’s about damn time.
All these years as a Copywriter and I’ve never been any good at writing about myself. Let’s see how this goes.
I was a Creative Director for a while — yes, like Don Draper, but with less Herman Miller and fewer hookers. I left the Advertising industry for ethical reasons, but I still enjoy a drink at 11am now and again.
These days, I’m an independent brand consultant and brand manager; I also take photographs (of lots of things, but people mostly pay me to photograph dogs).
I’m a Scorpio born under the year of the Rooster (uh, Cock). I turned 29 last year and will continue to do so for a few more years, I think.
I’m married to a Visual Effects Supervisor, so all of our home movies have green-screened light saber battles and Michael Bay-esque explosions in them. If y’all ever need anything exploded or set on fire, I know just the guy for the job.
I love tiny container gardens, Anthropologie, the color of sea glass, the word “cohesive,” Juergen Teller, South Austin, green zinnias, and the way light falls on the floor through the sheer curtains in my living room.
I also have a bunch of tattoos, am a pretty funny drunk, and I’m pretty sure my lens is bigger than yours.
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Welcome, Flannery! Your lens is bigger than mine, and I love Juergen too.
Hell, yes!
Welcome!
Okay, Flannery has met Daryl and me (from way back). Deron and Amy. Renner. Phil. Dave and India (briefly). Kelsey and David. That’s, like, a lot of flockers.
Deron, haven’t I known you since I was about 8? And Renner even longer than that, I think.
We’re old.
Oh, he won’t know. You were 7. We met Renner and Deron in the spring of 1989.
Finally.
You’re worried, aren’t you, Michael? There’s another one.
Wait, Flannery is a girl?
Flannery and I were both born under the Cock, so we’re friends already.
Currently, yes, Joel.
I’ve never met a girl with such a big lens.
That’s what they all say.
Hey, Flannery, did you know that a friend of Renner’s and mine refers to your family as the Scrotums?
But not in a bad way.
“Official” welcome.
“My lens is up here.”
Joel, I think you meant, “Wait, Flannerys a girl?”
Hooray! This is exciting. Flattery, it feels like you’ve always been here. Glad the ordination paperwork was finally processed.
Ha! iPhone autocorrect. I’m leaving it.
Yeah, mine does the same thing. You’d think it would have learned by now. Then again, I take it as a compliment (har har)
Now I’m crooning in a lounge lizard’s voice, “Flattery, it feels like you’ve always been here.”
Sure you have a big lens, but do you know what to do with it? I’ve seen some pretty big ones in my day, but it don’t mean a thing if the person behind it isn’t any good with it.
Dave, I can do things with my lens that you’ve never heard of.
Most of those videos the CIA found in OBL’s compound were of Flannery and her lens.
This feels about right.
Flannery’s description of her husband made me think of this.
Hey Flannery, it was great meeting you and your daughter over Salvadoran food a couple weeks ago.
I met Flannery too. But briefly.
Oh, Amanda, that’s right!
Hey kid–welcome to the flock. It was made for rare ones like you my dear.
Hi!
David and Amanda, it was wonderful meeting you (and everyone else!) at the Dallas CFS3 afterparty. David, I think you and my husband would like each other. You could talk about poop, among other things.
Fish poop?
From one Scorpio to another: welcome!
Flannery! I’m sorry we had to run off to catch a plane back to KC before we got to meet. One of these days we’ll have the chance, I hope. Welcome, welcome. As others said I feel like you’ve been here all along.
Man, I’m sorry we missed the afterparty. Didn’t get to say proper hugs goodbye with Cindy, Daryl, Dave or India. Y’all float my boat.
Oh, Rick. We missed you (y’all) too! Who knows, though–we might see each other soon. And there’s always next year’s gathering!
But also, welcome! I am jealous of your name and pretty hair.
Wait, I knew how old Flannery was when we met. I would have guessed 8 or 9. And I’m pretty sure Renner and I met you at the same time.
Wait, I’m a cock too.
Wait.
Yeah, the not-hugging was a drag. I mean, there was hugging amongst those who were at Deron’s and Amy’s when we-all left for the airport Monday afternoon. And Rick and I hugged when I left KC at the crack of fucking dawn Tuesday. And that was sweet. But I can never get me enough hugging.
Hugs!
Deron’s a cock too.
Aw, shucks.
Cockadoodlehonk!
Wait, was this a penis metaphor?
I don’t know — I thought we were talking about boobs.
We can’t do both?
That’s what she said.
I just want you to know, you’re totally one of my three favorite Flannerys
Anyone who likes green zinnias is a friend of mine. Welcome home already, Flannery.
My best friend, who I have known since I was 5, doesn’t do hugging. She is so warm and friendly that people don’t expect this. So when I’m with her, I say, “You know J. doesn’t hug, but I sure do.” Which means I’ll take a hug for a friend any day.
I’m pretty late to the party, but, welcome, Flannery.
Another photographer means more photos – exciting!