I'm starting to wonder whether or not my teachers think I'm a third grader. Recently for world geography we colored a map of the United States.

Anyways, I've started to investigate large format photography. It's ridiculous.

This post is not safe for consumption.

I see Paris I see France, someone pulled some underpants through a hole in the wall where all the men saw the naked ladies dance while the mouse ran up the clock. Hickory, dickory, dock.

It's...

Story time. This story is very short and there’s not much to tell. Let me start from the beginning. Once upon a time, when hipsters still shopped at American Apparel and listened to The Black Keys, there were two young men waiting to be taken home. One of them was a pretentious indie kid and the other was an Anti-Culture bass player. They passed the time talking to a gay-guy and his friend, who happened to be a girl. They waited and waited, and then they danced to some hard-core techno, and then they waited some more. Eventually the gay-guy and his friend, who happened to be a girl, had to leave. Then it was just the pretentious indie kid and his Anti-Culture bass playing friend. And finally they were picked up by a Golden Carriage.

Quote: “Max, this sounds like stripper music.”

“It is, when I’m alone in my room in the dark.”

There is neither creation, nor destruction, only change.

Do you ever wonder if anyone is reading your blog? Sometimes the blogosphere can be quite lonely, to the point where one wonders whether or not there is some intelligent life out there. If there is, if someone is reading this, please give me a sign. Or maybe the only life out there is too smart to post on my little blog.

Maybe it's better that I'm the only person reading this pile of shit.