European Singles

These are leftovers from family time in France, Ljubljana, Amsterdam and Germany.

Lyon, France.

France has lots of churches?

Sexually suggestive building alignment.

My dad and I are related. This is what I will look like when I’m 64, but I’m hoping for a beard instead of a stache.

My sister and mom are related. You can tell because of the tits and the legs. Stop looking at my mom’s tits.

We went on a hike in search of a castle in Avignon.

My mom’s birthday is on August 1st. The big 6-4 and she doesn’t look a day over 45. Go Gail.

This is what it feels like to go to a French flea market. All tossed on your side and shit.

This rock made me cry and it’s not even that poignant.

Arles has a colosseum.

I went to a cemetery on my birthday. To gloat? Because I’m morbid? I found a gravestone with a skull and crossbones and I have a new death’s goal now.

We went to C


After Sarajevo, which was home to the most amazing radical people ever, Navid and I went to Mostar. Totally different vibe, but home to the most amazing radical aquatic-related stuff.

My pastry-induced saddle bags broke these swings, but it’s chill.

I think Mostar probably gets a bunch of English speaking retards coming through and bothering the war ruins.

Like this one!

Lots of bridges and lots of lights connecting the relatively Christian side of the city with the relatively Muslim side. Keep that salt and sugar separated.

I did not photoshop this picture. I am bad with figuring at how to change my white balance and stuff, which is why the mosque is electric white. The rest of the colors are pretty accurate though. Promise.

This bridge was 400 years old and destroyed by the Croats during the war. Bombed to pieces. The city just rebuilt it a couple of years ago.

This is a ghost town.

We went to a waterfall park with an island of snakes in the center.

This is what the waterfall park looks like with a person in the frame.

The men in Mostar jump of the bridge for money and bragging rights. Shit’s high as hell.


Sarajevsko Pivo and Historia

12 hour painful busride to Sarajevo with no stops for bathroom breaks aside, my trip to Bosnia was definitely one of my favorite parts about Europe.

I had no idea that Bosnia is so green. Even from the bus.

I met up with this anti-lovebryan ace of spades and we tagged around Bosnia together for the two weeks.

The main fountain in the Turkish Quarter. They say if you drink water from these fountains, then the world will bring you back to Sarajevo some day. We guzzled.

The Turkish Quarter’s most prominent mosque. You’re supposed to rinse your hands and feet at this fountain before you pray.

Prayer beads are strewn about all across the floor for people to use.

Qur’an library.

If I believed in god, I’d do it here.

Ottoman grave markers mixed in with the modern ones. The Turks don’t get much love around here.

Sarajevo is reasonably full of grave markers, organized by year. This is part of 1995.

These men stand around the chess board all day and heckle each other’s chess decisions.

Headgear is necessary in Bosnia. Ms. Emily Nathan helped pick out that pastel checkered one, which is my favorite I think.

The National Library that was bombed by the Serbs. Skeleton still stands.

I think they wanted this cemetary to look creepy.

Sarajevo may not have a National Library, but they do have a mighty fine brewery. With giant giant beers.

History lesson.

This is Cevapcici. The place where we ate this is famous accoding to Wikipedia. It was pretty goddamn good.

Oh my god, and cake too? No wonder Chloe thinks I might come home fat.

This is the view of Sarajevo from the hill atop which we listed to the calls to prayer. There seems to be about 30 minarets in the area, and they all started the call within a couple of seconds of each other, which means the acoustics and echos of the sound were incredible.

Pukki, which means “goat-fucker” in Finnish, turned my lighter into a torch. Pukki also said that the longest drinking binge he’s ever been on lasted 3 months. His friend Ante told us that 90% of Swedes are homosexuals, and the remaining 10% are metro. Fun kids.

Sarajevo Roses are mortar shell imprints that have been preserved around the city and painted red as a memorial to people who were killed during the siege. Each remaining rose marks a spot where at least 9 people were killed, and I think this one was where 63 were killed during a farmer’s market.

Copper Alley in the Turkish Quarters is famous for its um, copper.

Beautiful house.

We had way to much fun in that city.


Drank as much water from this badboy as I could. Here’s to future returns.


Counting Kuna

After Dubrovnik, I took off by myself for three weeks of wandering along the Croatian coast and through the badlands. I took pictures when everything was really good, and tried to exist outside of my head in cigarettes and booze and books when everything was really bad. Most of these pictures span the coastal excursions because those times were some of the best times during my 6 month sojourn. Blog ho!

Korcula island as seen from the ferry that ferry’d me to Split over the course of 9 hours.

Split is a Roman city. This is part of Diocletian’s palace.

Split and the rest of Dalmatian Croatia kind of resemble each other.

Stairs leading to the zoo that had all the ‘oh my’ animals.

So I was throwin dice in the alley…

What up booze’d up photo 1.

Melissa and Andrew breaking for free peaches.

Andrew and I took a ferry to Hvar island, where there was a storm brewing.

It flooded the town.

So we sought refuge in the nearest Kerum where we found this ginormous cheese cutter.

And where we also bought snorkels to brave the storm.

Then we went on a walk and saw these boats.

And this bike.

And then finally decided to go snorkeling here. Andrew said there were starfish and seaslugs, but I was too scared to open my eyes, so I can’t confirm or deny.

The storm had our stairs flooding for a couple of hours.

The next day was goddamn beautiful.

So we rented a boat with Jen and Di and explored a bunch of uninhabited islands around Hvar.

There were man-eating goats and angry nudists to be found.

This island was filled with razor-sharp rocks that we later learned are maintained in pyramidal formation by the local nudies.

I climbed the hill in search of nothing and found hissing lizards.

Jen is a pro photographer and skilled leisure-ist.

All the beaches in this area are pebbley, but we found a tiny tiny sand one, just big enough for 4 people. Unfortunately it was covered with syringes and ferocious bees, so we inhabited its flat rocks instead.

Teh r0ckz0r.

We climbed up to the town’s fortress to watch the sunset.

The next day we took a ferry to Brac to go to Zlatarni Rat, and the weather turned gorgeous later in the day. Promise.

There was a little dyke baby playing, and I tried to sympathize with her tomboyishness, but I just ridiculed her instead.

Our landlady left us some fresh meat.

We left her some fresh dishes, natch!

This is the day that I left fmy friends to travel on t Zadar, and the sky seemed to suggest good things to come.

But Zadar fuckin’ sucked and all it had was the goddamn amusement ride and Pirates of the Caribbean with English subtitles. Fucking Bakersfield of Croatia.

I loved Zagreb, but this is the only picture I took.



After France and I broke up, I went to some foreign countries to recover. I started in Dubrovnik, Croatia with my BFF Molly. It was tyte.

Stari Grad, the “old city,” from atop the fortress walls that surround it.

All the roofs that are red were destroyed during the war in the 90’s and then rebuilt.

I stole all of this to replace all of mine.

Croatia is largely catholic which means neat church windows with neat metal fixtures that I don’t understand.

“Those cherries are so beautiful. I wish I could reclaim my virginity just so I could have something in common with them.”

MCM +1.0

Main street and birdz.

Molly and I fought a lot during those 4 days, but we took cake-breaks to ameliorate our spirits and continue the movement towards fatsville.

The window of our house.

I totally wish this was my car.

Oh shit haunted laundry.

We went to an island that had a secret playground.

And angry peacocks that menaced the hell out of us and stole our grapes.

For Bryan. For jumping.

This peacock was really unhappy about my taking its photo.

I went on an adventure with my shorts romper, orange soda, Molly and some girlscout cookies.

un-Boaded Doors.

A golden Hercules straight out of ancient Greece probably.


Have a seat and sew me a dress.

Oh hi I’m a fence.

These are like the Brownstones of the dead-life.

No comment.

Patrick isn’t into helping me caption this one because he’s looking at bikes.

I went back to Dubrovnik weeks after this first excursion, where I met Ben, who jumped off of the rock I took a picture of for Bryan. He almost shit his pants. But didn’t.


more croatia up next.