State your hypothesis in the form of a prediction that can be verified by the results of the experiment.

The digital revolution has begat a new alpha male, at least in my view. After speaking with several of the photographers who exhibit their most explicit work on Hooksexup, I must contend that they have the most rock 'n' roll job there is. I want in. Trouble is, I have no camera, very little money for models and, truth be told, I am to photography what Jessica Simpson is to zoology.

Please list all the materials required for this experiment (including, if applicable, how they were obtained).

Digital camera (one)
Red lipstick
Model releases (three)
Pot
Wine (cheap)

click here for Jesse's pics click here for Monika's pics click here for Samantha's pics

In this portion of your report, you must describe, step-by-step, what you did in your lab. It should be specific enough that someone who has not seen the lab can follow the directions and recreate the same lab.

I asked a few photographers how they lived the dream. Peter Gorman told me that finding models was the easiest step of the process. He began his career by shooting nudes of his then-girlfriend, now-wife.

"Do you have one of those?" he asked.

"No, I don't," I replied.

"You should get one — great place to start."

Not particularly helpful. Gorman went on to say that he once posted ads in dance studios and was deluged with volunteers. So I painstakingly Photoshopped a set of flyers that read something like:

WOMEN WANTED FOR NUDE MODELING

Simple, beautiful. I posted flyers in art schools, dance academies and the areas surrounding NYU. Then I hurried back to the office, laughing to myself. I was certain I'd learned how to roll back women's inhibitions — and underpants — for the sake of art.

A week later, I'd recieved zero responses. I tried to put an ad on Craig's List but learned that the Craig's List minions — who find slippery-blowjob-wanted ads perfectly acceptable — forbid photographers from soliciting nude models in the "miscellaneous jobs" section. Their concern: some artistes might have hidden agendas.

They had my number. Smart.

For further counsel, I turned to Siege, a young Brooklyn photographer who goes a few steps further than taking beautiful pictures of hot girls: he captures them fooling around with each other, then fucks them. He and his stunning bisexual girlfriend lead a life I just can't get my tiny mind around.

"You must have friends who'll do that," Siege told me. "What with your . . . job and all."

"Are you nuts?" I spluttered.

"My girlfriend and I have been having people over for a while," Siege explained. "Taking pictures was really an afterthought. We were just documenting what was going on anyway."

"Are you trying to make me hate you?" I replied.

"Look, if you ask nicely, it's amazing what people will do. Be confident and respectful, and see what happens. "

"But you have a ready-made harem!"

"But you have an accent," he reasoned. "You're miles ahead of the game."

What-fucking-ever! After I begged for leads, Siege directed me to a member of his "super secret sex club." I casually asked her, as politely and confidently as one can over email, if she would model for me.

"I'd only feel comfortable doing that kind of thing for Siege," she wrote back.

It then became clear to me that Siege had sold his soul to the devil.

Several weeks later, I had relocated to Los Angeles, and I decided to resurrect my photography project. Something about L.A. made me feel that there was just enough desperation in the air for this to work.