|
[11 Jan 2009|11:57am] |
Let me just state, I hate rumors, so I'm not going to address the ones going around. haha that's like trying damn hard to be Switzerland in this place. Nevermind that I'm freelance
Going through some old photographs, as I am rather customed to doing lately, I've realized how much I actually miss my home. Having my family here was indeed lovely, but I think I need to plan a trip back to England. I'm sure it'll look like I've grown all clingy for my family again, but surely my mother won't mind having another mouth to feed. She cooks like she's feeding an army. Not sure. Maybe later in the spring or early summer. I don't really feel like I can go anywhere with the economy in the hole like it is.
Some other photos I've found, are a couple of favorites of mine of Duke. I figure everyone could use a little reason to smile with these rumors floating about. I really hope they are not true ... nope. Switzerland, Mericle.
( Read more... )
|
|
|
[20 Nov 2008|09:53am] |
|
I don't celebrate Thanksgiving ...
|
|
|
[11 Sep 2008|07:46pm] |
I smoked once. I know. Gasp, shock, the things will kill you, why did you ever quit. I know.
Funny thing. I started smoking for a girl, and I ended smoking for another. Now I will be the first to say, I now rarely, if ever, change my lifestyle for a woman. If she has a problem with me going to the one damned British pub in the area to go watch the rugby game and get piss drunk, well, I should probably think twice about such a woman. I'm sure that makes me sound ridiculously arrogant, but really, I'd just go anyway and put up with the fight about it later.
So I will say, I smoked my first cigarette when I was in secondary school. I will admit. I had a crush on my teacher. It was awful, I'm sure, but she was stunning and it was very unfair for her to wear such low cutting blouses if she expected teenage boys to think of European History rather than what she looked like naked. I digress.
I found her outside the school after rugby practice, "sneaking" a cigarette, but why she did it, I really don't know. She was an adult, young yes but old enough to decide whether she wanted a smoke or not. She turned red and waved at the smoke billowing from her lips all too apologetically. I just stared at her for a moment, stupidly, I'm sure. Whatever possessed me to drop my bag and ask her for one, I was unsure, but just to have something in common with the woman I lusted after was enough. I felt like the old American actor James Dean, rolling the grit in my fingers. I didn't know what the hell to do with it, so I just mimicked the way she took a drag of hers, and nearly died trying not to cough. The second was a little easier...and so forth. It became a thing, meeting after practice for a cigarette with the teacher every guy in school wanted to fuck.
Quitting was another thing. I was doing a shoot, one of my first over at Vanity Fair, and there was yet another stunner working there. She wasn't one of the models, I swear. Probably one of the most radiantly beautiful women I have met in my lifetime. She was witty and had a wicked sense of humor. I worked with her for two weeks, and on the last day, I convinced her to go out for drinks with me. I sat across the table from her and like almost always, I tapped out a cigarette and lit it before I noticed the way looked at me. With that same wry smile of hers I had grown to adore, she plucked it from my lips and looked at it as if she were looking at a bug. "These things will kill you, y'know." I still remember the way she said it, the mischief in her eye before she dropped the burning cigarette into my half-full beer. That was the day I quit smoking. No real rhyme or reason but her comment, and I suppose I have her to thank for years added back to my life.
Start smoking. Quit smoking. Both involved a woman, but I'll say, only one worked in the favor of getting me laid, if I can be so crass as to say. I'll let you choose which you think it was.
|
|
| 001. take a picture, it lasts longer. |
[03 Jul 2008|04:18pm] |
I have been in the United States for...just over four years now. Some might not think that you Yanks and we Brits have different customs. After all, y'all were once one of us. You just came over here and did it better. Still, we look similar, we speak the same language, same colors on our flags. We are cousins, only the very odd sort who once tried to kill each other. No matter, bygones and all that. Differences. That is what we are discussing here.
So the main difference I see here. What the hell is the fascination with American Football?
I'm a rugby man myself, through and through, played it in high school, still try to do it now and then when I find people who actually know what it is. I am utterly baffled over why anybody would take a superior game like rugby, and derive football from it. I don't mean to insult anyone here who might be one of those crazed fans (go Jets or Giants or whoever we're rooting for these days), but honestly. The first time I went to a football game, well lets clear the air here and I'll tell you no, I was not under the impression I would be watching soccer, I was rather excited to go. I had my seats, my beer, nachos. I was ready for the full American experience of hooting and hollering at a football team. And then the teams came out, and my first thought was "why the bloody hell are they wearing helmets?" Honestly. All those pads, those helmets ... I understand the need to protect yourself, but if you ask me, that's just bollocks.
That friends, is a real sport. And that was just a picture I took at my University.
In any case, I shall get off of my soapbox now. Oh yes, and Happy Independence Day.
|
|
|
[27 Jun 2008|12:28pm] |
oh gravity is working against me
and gravity wants to bring me down ( . )
|
|