I don’t know this blue belle. I was waiting for someone to crank open a bottle of rosé when Katy Perry Jr. here walked into the kitchen, stealing the refrigerator’s thunder. I’m not sure if she and the microwave were in cahoots, but it sure did seem like it.
I don’t know this book-holding brunette. I was enjoying a lovely afternoon at the Old (read: Derelict) Zoo in Griffith Park, and snapped this right before my friend and I headed off to the abandoned enclosures to contract tetanus and whatnot.
I don’t know these revelers. I was escorting a 65-year-old Canadian Jazz Fest newbie with a bad hip to the main gate when we passed by this streetside crawfish boil; excited, she asked if we might stop so she could take in some local culture. I obliged and watched as she cackled with glee while popping their heads off. It was pretty awesome.
I don’t know this surfer brah. I was sprawled out on the sand, daydreaming about the meaning of life or Ryan Gosling or something, and he wandered past, board in hand. I would have taken the time to compose a better picture if he actually was Ryan Gosling, but since he wasn’t, this is what you get.
I don’t know this Imagineer/Cast Member/Disney person or that kid they’re talking to. What I DO know, however, is that I just renewed my Disneyland Annual Passport so I can ride Space Mountain approximately 1,000 more times in the coming year. PRIORITIES!
I don’t know this sun-dappled duo. It was an unusually warm, bright day in Portland and these lovahs were taking advantage by setting up a hammock right next to the river, probably to cuddle in or something. Part of me felt jealous, and the other part of me wanted to turn that jealousy into action by stealing their hammock and setting it up for myself. You’ll be glad to know that all I did was shoot them a dirty look and keep walking.
I don’t know this lady equestrian (or her horse). I was lounging on the edge of a trail in Griffith Park when they strode past, a regal pair of blonde ponytailed princesses. For a moment, I blissfully recalled my singular horse riding experience, a sunlit gallivant along the same trails with a stud named Bear…then I remembered the feeling of not being able to walk properly for a week. My inner thighs still haven’t fully forgiven me.
I don’t know this sleeping beauty. My friend and I were working some boulder problems in the Asteroid Belt at J Tree when this dude & his buddies came sauntering over. While he snoozed, another dude lit a J, two girls twirled their hair, and a few guys in Ray-Bans tried a problem or two, then sat on a rock and preened. My friend called them “www.hipsterclimbers.com.” If you were wondering, that URL is totally up for grabs.
I don’t know this wandering pair. This was taken on my first hour in Austin for the SXSW Music Festival this year, and the streets were mercifully clear of foot traffic, off-duty frat boys, and dried vomit.
I don’t know this skinny jeansed duo. This was taken during my first trip to SXSW four years ago and I’m posting it in honor of my upcoming fourth trip. During the coming week, I anticipate sleeping a grand total of eight hours, eating a grand total of one and a half full meals, drinking a grand total of three gallons of cheap whiskey, seeing a grand total of seven good bands out of a hundred, and cursing under my breath at a grand total of seventy-five annoying drunk strangers. Can’t wait.
