no more images. just words.


that’s really special.

i used to take tons of photos. not artsy ‘pebbles on a beach’ bullshit but pics of my pals and myself doing cool shit, like partying and puking. i have 30 or 40 photo albums full of that stuff. they’re pretty funny to look back at.

but i got sick of taking pics all the time. i realize how valuable great pics of memorable times are but i simply got bored of and annoyed with always carrying a camera around, paying more and more for the film and developing, throwing out half of the pics when they sucked, organizing the keepers and putting them in an album…it sucks to not have puke and party pics from the last 8 or 9 years but i’m not going to reason myself into submission and force myself to do it.

besides, i now have my emails to bill (which are basically diary entries), this blog for extended ranting and mind-numbing introspection i don’t want to bore poor billy with, and i have also gotten more into keeping hand-written travel diaries when jenn and i are on vacation (which are great for minute details that time usually robs one’s memory of). none of these things are quite the same as all the great pics of puke and tits and spread open anuses, but they are more satisfying in many of their own ways. and the overarching point of all of these mediums is for me to have tools to help me reminisce when i’m near death and need to appreciate what a good time i’ve had here, and ramblings like this are just as good at that as all those old pics. they achieve the same end, just through different means.

so although i’m sad that my collection of gross and funny pics has ceased expanding, i’m glad that i still have them, and that i now have other means of recording all the hot knives and smashed pussies.


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