I finished the post

Exhale, aaah the rage inside is never going to go away is it? It has to be utilized in the right way. Like typing blog posts without looking at the keyboard. It's the focusing on the blog that intensifies the process causing the focus. The posts often have no direction when I start writing them. Sometimes its just my insecurities that gush out. I really have no reason to feel bad about anything. My fucking life is immaculate. I thank God for it. Not everyone understand that. I'm high strung and so attention deficit. It's the reason I exist. It gives me a spin. Not always in the right direction. I did my families laundry, and it made me a better person. To watch Pooh bear with my four year old and fold laundry. It was late but I let the light out past it's bed time and we talked and drew some pictures. When it was time to go to bed I opted to read the Bible. He opted to spaz and be a kid. I turned off the light said I love you and walked out. I started this post, he left his room and badgered me into reading him some good word. Then while I was reading it he made fun of me. I left. He fell asleep crying.

Jerk off to me assholes, eat shit...hehehe oh and if your dad pays for your school you won't blow it!!!

This is it, I love whats happening. I love knowing that most of the people I have to contend with are only around because I inspired them, Because of me the quality of their existence is higher. Edmonton artist are really rig pigs kids, meaning that they have everything given to them. They are never truly being original, because they have never done anything on their own, organically. Well there is the kids who take portraits of their parents. Recently I was approached by a model who accused me of shit talking on taxi talk. She said I even mentioned Jesus. She was correct in her accusations, what do you expect from a model who has.....never mind, I won't hurt her, but Some people just can't decide whether they are vein or brutal. I'm brutal. I'm ugly and I'm right. I rock. Not posting enough hate on the corporate side because I'm having fun growing as an artist. Watching all the sheep expand is pleasant. Bheee! fucking banjos. I'm really excited about pissing on the people who think they are hot. They're just vein empty thugs. Rig Pigs kids. I wounder what I would be like if my parents weren't immigrants. I can't imagine what my life would be like if I was a big truck driver getting my dick sucked by some empty headed bitch whose only doing it because she doesn't want me to leave her ten minutes away from her house, cause she is wearing heals. Fuck I fucking miss Taxi. Now that was a Job. Real, well what I'm doing is real, inspiring empty headed nothings who jerk each other off because they can't think of anything valid to blow it too. You really have to question this one....

Nausea on the bus and a concussion

I can remember being a pompous asshole at the dinner table that night, even though food was the last thing on my mind. I did try to eat, except it was to show off my excellent ability to use the cutlery. The night went on, we had the local ski instructors bring in a whole whack of booze. In the United states the legal age to drink is 21. I was 22, Jill was 20. Most of the student on the trip where somewhere in between. I drank Tequila that night and my room was the the place to be. Everyone was having a good time. I remember playing that Spanish tune on the Guitar. All the international students sang the lyrics. It was great. By the end of the night no one wanted to leave. Eventually the party died and only a couple of girls were left and some local guys. THe dudes were just hanging around hoping to see some action. I had a lady, and I was happy. I can remember being so drunk and belligerent that they almost kicked my ass. Thank God for Louise and Jill they got them out of the hotel room before I got to them. I talked so much shit that night, and for some reason Jill stuck around. I asked her to stay the night but she ditched my drunk ass. I fell asleep next to Louise my Spanish companion. He was so great! So full of "Passion!" I can remember waking up three hours later. Tweaked I guess and hung over, I couldn't sleep. I stumbled over to the bathroom, the clock on the wall said it was 8:00 am. I popped a couple of pills, took a shower brushed my teeth and went down to the chalet to drink some coffee and start to snowboard.

NYCTaxi your right...

During my 2005 spring semester in the university of Wisconsin Green Bay I found myself in love with a beautiful young blond, lets call her Jill. I met her on a skiing trip to Michigan. It was in the evening, we were all just coming back from a night of skiing. I was snowboarding. I remember the night. It was a gorgeous mid American night. So I remember the instant I met her, I jumped in the hot tub next to her friend. I hadn't done a good enough job rinsing myself off in the shower before getting into the water and the black lint from my sock came floating to the top of the water. Jill was the first to notice and she screamed in disgust. It was OK because my Spanish friend Louise jumped in right behind me and I felt confident enough to just splash the fabric out of our existence and mention that she was in the presence of a couple of super high class international students. Louise was from Spain, and I was Global. Most Americans initial impression of me was that I was American because Canadians and Americans are virtually the same race. I've lived in several different countries and speak many different languages, so that initial impression is easy to change when a foreign language comes rolling of my tongue. Jill and I hit it off instantly, I convinced her to to come up to my room after the hot tub. It was still early and we decided that we were going to throw a party. I had known her for about 45 minutes by the time I decided that i was going to let her know that I enjoy a massive stimulant prescription, she watched me swallow 50mg of speed and off we went, downstairs to the chalet.

and I'll still be left standing!

The truth is I'm not really tiered, I get up early to shoot, I go to bed late to shoot. I've been editing. Photoshopping. Shoppppping. Fuck Working events. I love it. High ISO. Always wanting more stuff, seems whatever you need you get or you got. I have so much support from the people who count in my life. I'm lucky, and I'm not scared. Maybe that's because it's summer. Who knows! I'm really happy. Fuck I just don't want to go to bed, but I have to wake up early. So early, for something I'm not sure about. I guess I want to find out about. The truth is I trust my life. Where it's going. It's frightening, but that's what keeps you on your toes. I'm not out there with Bad intent. I don't think. You never really know. Well when you're Catholic! The Sun is shinning, the season is blooming, life is something that I can't comprehend, but I want to hold on to. Who knows maybe I'll live forever. Yeah, right. The world would end,

The Good red road to the Branch your hanging on

All you hipsters should move to Vancouver. Fuck! WHat a fucked up planet, we come from a fucked up hole. I am happy. I'm laughing. It's awful to live life angry and resentful. Sometimes it's a driving force, well it should be. By being happy with yourself not anyone else. It's nice that there are those kinds of forces in this place, on this planet. They're actually there to keep us on track. Sometimes they get in our way, but really they're just keepin you on the right path. This stuff all happens for a reason, we're here to watch it unfold. Like the Butterfly we peal ourselves out of a nasty little creature. Yuk. Does anyone out there feel like that nasty little worm. Cocooned up in this nasty place. It means your on the right path. So be happy.

Nobody knows you!

lol

I can hear the birds wake up, spring is here, mmm

Imagine driving a Limo, fucking sweet. Limos are so dirty they're clean. I once won a package to a strip club in a limo. I don't belong in bars when I drink, but I think I had a good time.

I write to no one specific but to all who read

go away I don't care.

I do what I want

I grew up with a father that shot weddings using film. He was good at it, built a huge house around a bunker of a studio. He was a photographer. He was classically trained in Europe all that junk, unfortunately the industry was much like it is now. You had to stand out to be more. My father did weddings then got divorced, and I won't. To those of you who aspire to make it as a weeding guy, good. You'll probably go far into the empty bullshit world of very boring and very average shots. You know that someone else showed you how to do, so go, copy that other wedding shooter, bring a backup guy to get those romantic moments people want to cherish when they get divorced. It's a cop out, like a weeding singer, if you get my drift. Listen you guys, photography goes further back for me then for you. My mother uses sound to produce images. I watched my fathers dreams fall apart probably because of something like anonymous bloggers who have no value. Yes, you are worthless, I'm sure you get paid so much more for the work you do, but you don't really do any right? other wise you would be working. The quality shooters sell drugs not talent to pay for gear. They're like rappers, to bad its a tough industry. Hey boss just wait, I'll be telling you what to shoot. Put you pictures where your mouth is, "Nowhere!" but you can write a mean comment, bet you'd be a good editor.