I’ll start this off with a Hunter S. Thompson quote… “Maybe there is no Heaven. Or maybe this is all pure gibberish – a product of the demented imagination of a lazy drunken hillbilly with a heart full of hate who has found a way to live out where the real winds blow – to sleep late, have fun, get wild, drink whisky, and drive fast on empty streets with nothing in mind except falling in love and not getting arrested. Res ipsa loquitur. Let the good times roll.”
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I had a great studio in Brooklyn with a really great job serving cocktails two nights a week at The Jane Hotel. My parents still lived in the Hamptons, my friends didn’t suck, and my heart hadn’t been broken in a long time. Still, I knew eternal happiness existed beyond my “perfect” life in New York City. I packed my car up and left what didn’t fit. A best friend of mine joined in on the ride and made the whole thing absolutely bearable. Six days later, we made it through meth head madness with nothing stolen and no damage to my car. Literally not a thing went wrong. This was a first for me…
So sit back, relax and enjoy this hour-long mixtape over sh*t I seen, my photo essay on America.
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