one thousand five hundred fourteen.

daps son

one thousand five hundred thirteen.

the whole state has gone to shit. no school or work for a week.

but in other news...

Fox Mulder on duty to investigate any case involving beer.

one thousand five hundred twelve.

one thousand five hundred eleven.

one thousand five hundred ten.

Mulder and Scully...beer-o-ween 2012

one thousand five hundred nine.

made this edit of dillon a while back.

dill pickles. from ShredNJ on Vimeo.

one thousand five hundred eight.

one thousand five hundred seven.

one thousand five hundred six.

one thousand five hundred five.

carrie and i on halloween. beleeeee dat.

one thousand five hundred four.

one thousand five hundred three.

one thousand five hundred two.

this is excellence.

you won’t see them often
for wherever the crowd is
they
are not.

these odd ones, not
many
but from them
come
the few
good paintings
the few
good symphonies
the few
good books
and other
works.

and from the
best of the
strange ones
perhaps
nothing.

they are
their own
paintings
their own
books
their own
music
their own
work.

sometimes I think
I see
them—say
a certain old
man
sitting on a
certain bench
in a certain
way

or
a quick face
going the other
way
in a passing
automobile

or there’s a certain motion
of the hands
of a bag-boy or a bag-
girl
while packing
supermarket
groceries.

sometimes
it is even somebody
you have been
living with
for some
time—
you will notice
a
lightning quick
glance
never seen
from them
before.

sometimes
you will only note
their
existence
suddenly
in
vivid
recall
some months
some years
after they are
gone.

I remember
such a
one—
he was about
20 years old
drunk at
10 am.
staring into
a cracked
New Orleans
mirror

face dreaming
against the
walls of
the world

where
did I
go?

—Charles Bukowski

one thousand five hundred one.

surprise party for the pepito!