Sometimes you just gotta, man. Sometimes you just gotta.
From my old files. Drawn back in March 2008, these were the thoughts crossing my mind while I was planning out the route of my cross-country road-trip.
I should mention that ze birdies were very helpful in reminding me to take breaks while we were on the road. Because believe me, when a bird thinks it’s high time that you stop driving, it will let you know.
I had a dream last night, in which I had to fulfill a duty. Said duty involved going into a dark labyrinth and getting eaten by a monster. You know, that “for the good of the people” type of situation.
So of course I took with me some moisturizer and a Moleskine. Because obviously I have my priorities.
It’s a pity text messages don’t come in automatically threaded conversations, because it took me a few moments this morning to decipher why I was being woken up at 8am by a friend’s pithy message: “Male escorts.”
Admittedly, she knew there was a whole slew of meanings that could be imparted with just those two words.
Pater’s been sending over scans of his transparency slides. Yes, my dad still keeps hundred of transparencies. I was fascinated with them as a kid.
1980 – Computer, VCR, TV. We were state of the art, man.
1981 – I am kicking it. Apparently Li’l Bro is incubating in Mum in this pic.
1981 – Mum pregnant with Li’l Bro. This may likely be the most delicate you’ll ever see me.
1981 – Original gangsta.
E-mail exchange between Li’l Bro and I regarding a pic not shown here:
Him: Lynn’s naked with a pistol!
Me: I do all my best work naked with a pistol.