This is sad on so many levels.

Saw the Mountain Goats at Amoeba. That John Darnielle is just a good guy.

On my way to Dylan and Kyle’s, I saw this shoe store that used the old Ellington Emerica’s for it’s signage. When did that shoe become iconic?

Hartkeap celebrated it’s one-year anniversary with a little soiree.

Dylan dressed up nice and made mussels.

Gord didn’t shower and made an Alfalfa sprout.

I used to stand a foot taller than this kid when I met him.

Card-tossing at Chris Chu.

Adrienne drinks the King of Beers.

I lured some of my favorite girls out to the City promising soyrizo. It worked.

Kari’s pretty poplar with the boys right now.

Too bad she lost her weave and they gonna see her bald head and say, “shoo, girl, why you playin’ me like a fool.”

Professional sweetheart, Meghan, made me an amazing cycling cap. She’s turned this into an art and will make you a custom one for probably less than they cost in the store. Queen of the cottage industries.

Pat brought me a copy of his CD. So ill, this was the highlight of my week.

Me and Kristi was supposed to go the waterpark. We ate watery oatmeal instead. My bad.

I had to go to Berkeley on assignment and ran into Dante who lives on Treasure Island. Not as glamorous as it sounds.

Julian. He just resurrected his myspace. A digital Jesus.

I was asked to shoot the crew for an ad. It was a good time. But difficult getting everyone perfect. The guitar guy had it in this photo but everyone else dropped the ball.

Shot 47 or 212.

Shot 118 or 212.

The final product. Adam hooked it up and made my crappy photo into something cool.

Isa is sad that I don’t live in Berkeley anymore.

Michelle couldn’t care less because she’s got a dirty rat on her shoulder.

This is the Polaroid Kid. He’s a budding art-star, trainhopper, punkrocker and genuine natural.

His real name is Mike Brodie and I’m working on a piece about him for SOMA magazine.

These are his homemade tattoos based on a drawing he did when he was eight.

I was so jealous of his natural abilities that I killed him.

Mike Wong, Chelsea and Ryan SLO hosted a vegan BBQ on Saturday. Didn’t need to ask me twice.

They have an abandoned house in their backyard.

And we climbed the roofs until we found a way in.

Condemned.

There were all kinds of great things inside, like torn photos, rubber wrappers and a Dave Chapelle ticket stub.

Poser.

Nature’s blinds.

One of many tender moments between Adri and Hallie.

Also a tender moment, somewhat reminscent of a mother and her unborn child.

This is my favorite photograph of the moment. Katherine sparkles.

Later that night, Hallie’s big head blocked my view of Best in Show at Dolores.

My friend Sitar had a party at her house.

The place was so nice that it made up for all the kooks in attendance.

They have a hot tub on the roof with a crazy view of the city. I’m fashioning a grappling hook as you read this.

But after too much “progressive house” I had to peace out.

Elias and overexposure.

This man is the most unassuming drug deal
er. He was offering ginger-carob-coated drugs.

No comment.

There’s this nasty feeling I’ve got says the following is going to be extremely boring. Anyway, I moved out of Casa Zimbabwe for the fourth time last weekend and I took that time make a visual inventory of my most prized possessions. Sadly, I learned that I own nothing of real value. One man’s junk….

This was my room and wheeled beasts that took it over.

Home ain’t home without the fam.

Within these pages is every fun thing that I’ve done and every moment of heartache I’ve endured since December 2004.

These objects are among the longer, skinnier things I own.

Luminesence.

My friends are good at skateboarding.

Movies and soundtracks.

Virtuoso.

Shoelaces/belts. Whatever.

Visuals.

I seriously didn’t even know that I kept ticket stubs until I found all of these in a ceramic dish. Strange.

Other unimportant pieces of paper I’ve yet to trash.

Valets always got cash, y’know. A guy gave me ten $2 bills as a tip once.

Other nonsense that resides in aforementioned ceramic dish.

Every week. Ritual.

These hang alongside the family.

Every was packed away in a red Jeep Cherokee with no radio (thanks, Rachael) and relocated to 16th and S. Van Ness.

My room is the one with the lights on the right. Over the years this house has played home to talented folks like Derrick Snodgrass, Elias Bingham, Cairo Foster, Vic Blue, Chris Wright, Darin Howard, Pete Thompson, Justin Strubing, Danny Fuezalida, Hanzy Driscoll, Brian Uyeda and many others I probably don’t even know about. Not to mention every major pro skateboarder has slept on the floor at one point in time.

Eli loves Leo.

Our shower has no pressure.

Stallions and Thundercats HO!

The backyard has a broken basketball hoop and an avocado tree.

Joya likes his boards as small as possible.

You can tell a lot about a house by its frigidaire. Don’t judge us.

Zach reads sometimes.

Rumeli has this thing for the Day of the Dead.

I think my favorite thing is the original Chris Duncan piece in the hallway.

“Dear Diary, all I ever want to do is sit in my bay window and write in you!!!”

Good buddhists don’t kill flies.

Whew! Glad that’s over. My deepest apologies.

Brunt and Mike Belleme came to visit and we did some skateboarding.

Mike makes mistakes sometimes.

Ty was on the scene to keep our star aligned.

And he came through.

Lemme see, lemme see.

Smooth & Mellow. Nothing says Brunt better.

Ty’s smoking.

Brunt got shouted at by SFPD’s finest for hanging out atop the bus shelter.

What’re you trying, boy?

Mission accomplished.

But not without sacrifice.

When we weren’t skateboarding, we went on a ride to Indian Rock and came across this peaceful house.

They had the tastiest plum tree.

And a smattering of blackberries. It was like a smoothie growing out of the ground.

Bruce Wayne’s tag.

More skateboarding, shouting, getting kicked out and ambient light.

Berkeley skies.

Brunt enjoyed himself I think.

Last room to room party as a co-operative resident. Kari gets whompled.

The same day folks painted the bathroom, someone spread this message. Fresh paint atop fresh paint.

Nicole took her MCATs and AK got a suite at the Clift Hotel to celebrate.

Downtown SF.

Champimple.

Jay James was there doing the Jay James dance.

Scratched cornea.

Berkeley’s finest.

When I tried to get Nicole to play doctor, she just advised us on wearing helmets. She probably failed her MCATs. Just kidding, see you at Havard.

AK made good use of the $300 body pillow.

This was just darling.

What a nice table.

Let’s get inside it.

Alli in a nutshell.

Poaching flashes.

Elias is a little man.

Can you see why I’m going to miss Berkeley?

Elias celebrated his 30th yesterday.

Anya’s back and we ate Vietnamese sandwiches.

Eli got lost looking for the bathroom at SOMA and ended up stuck in the garage behind bars. Yup, happy birthday.

Kari, Ilya and I ate Smart Alec’s. Made me feel American again.

Sweet chocosoy.

Bryan, your current blog lacks focus, insight and any sort of conclusion. Where are the thematic elements so prevelant in your previous entries? As your professor, I am thoroughly disappointed in this motley assortment of photographs held together by nothing but a shoestring. At best. D+

Last days in NC. We skated a miniramp and Zach Branch, a frequent Broken Branches contributor, came and climbed trees while we skated.

Jacob looks really awkward but he’s actually balancing on the end of the coping. But he’s still awkward.

While we were skating, some dude rolled up on a busted scooter. He was about five foot tall and a little heavyset. He took off his helmet, pulled out his axe and pocket amp, and asked us if we liked Kitty. I pretended not to know what he was talking about, but he was seriously asking us if we listened to a terrible all-girl metal band. Sorry, guy, nope.

He played it anyway and got Jacob stoked enough to try pivot fakies.

Mothers hide your daughters.

He tried to sell us his scooter that he ran into a truck the day prior. Duct tape seemed to be holding it together just fine.

This was in the same yard as the miniramp. We shoulda got gnar.

Molnar’s lucky number is 666.

One more. Vamp front-flip. Goodbye NC.

Yesterday we went to Mossword Park to play kickball. There was this drum ensemble and all the kids from the park were getting hyphy and going dumb in the grass.

Dylan just turned 19 but is never too old to withhold his laughter when dude trips and rolls into home plate.

Long shadows.

Line-drive.

Remember Kyle Wilson?

Our team ruled.

This team was hurting. At least they all have nice t-shirts.

Chelsea’s too punk for you.

Ghost ride the whip.

This is the best thing I’ve maybe ever seen. Homeboy on a tandem bike with his homegirl on the back. Coaster brakes and homemade aluminum foil rims. Picture me rollin’.

Went swamming again. Emily came. We used to swim this spot together when I was sixteen.

If you’re sick of jumping off of shit pictures, then I apologize and advise you to scroll down a good ways.

Eight years of swimming here and this was the first time I ever slid off.

And this one.

BFF three-way.

Brunt enjoying the action.

Emily’s tough as nails.

Some good ol’ boy showed us all up with a gainer from the middle of the waterfall.

Brunt ain’t gonna stop doing cannonballs though.

And Molnar’s vamp variations extend far and wide. 360 Vamp.

This is what life looks like after the fall.

People really love their pets. This pet isn’t mine but I still love it. Dogsitting Pookie.

Hayden is curating on North Carolina’s biggest neon show in this gallery. Frosted glass is strangely comforting to me.

This is part of the neon show.

He explained how they trap noble gases and pump them into these objects of blown glass and create arts.

Hayden’s contribution. He made glass molds from old railroad equipment.

I went to high school with Carleigh and Nola. Rad they’re still so nice and not fat like the rest of Reynolds ’00.

Wildflowers at a family friend’s house.

Busy.

This forty-year old woman had the raddest tree house. She’s restoring my faith in adulthood.

It has a suspension ladder too. No fireman’s pole, but still fun.

Me and my babysister went camping. We left after dark, but that was fine because it was a full moon.

We hiked by moonlight.

My sister was tough and slept under the stars without a tent.

Tents are for weenies.

First thing in the morning, I picked blueberries for breakfast.

We had a plethora.

Sara needs her pillow.

Someone lives in this.

Maybe it’s this guy.

Do these clouds look like they’re moving to you?

We walked down this long crick to a recommended swimming hole.

You had to jump out about 20ft. on this jump. I made it about 17ft. Still kicking though.

Back up the crick.

And home.

I went way out, North Carolina way.

Chelsea and Chloe stopped by to see me off. Sweethearts.

My ticket was free courtesy of Airtran and Wendy’s cups. Can’t beat that with at stick.

Indiana maybe?

Ah, to be home. My sister shows me what the family’s been up to since my last visit.

Queen of dirt.

Above sister, sixteen years of age, just received her Good Enough Degree in the mail. Yay for the NC public school system.

This is one of five dogs that live in my house. He doesn’t like me a bit.

This is Jacob’s roommate’s dog Chorizo. Dumbass got stuck in the blinds.

Peanut butter tofu and sweet potato fries at Rosetta’s is worth a visit to NC in itself.

Porches every night in summer.

As we sat on this one, the neighbors were breaking up. Woman picked up man’s bike above her head and hurled it into the yard. Then followed broken glass and invective. Woman: “Dirty mutherfucker, sonofabitch with a three-inch dick. Got a damn STD, dirty bitch.” Man: “I’m sorry, baby.”

This also occurs on the porch. But you probably already know that if you’ve ever seen Brunt’s blog.

Phil Collins and Jon Bon Jovi like watching Jacob pee.

Charlotte’s web.

Wasps make good friends, bad enemies.

Jacob thinks he’s a tough guy.

Margot really is. You shoulda seen the other guy.

Mike proves what a bunch of roughnecks NC folks really are.

Gus’s first.

Kim experiences the agony of defeat.

Push had an art show and cheese cubes.

Jacob poured drinks and made enough in tips for a week’s rent out here.

The prettiest peeing behind a dumpster shot maybe ever.

Monorail, RIP. For those that know.

Mama installed an outdoor shower. It’s remarkable.

Little people took over this waterfall.

I claimed this sanctuary for myself.

But decided to share it with Mama. Tender moment.

The best skatespot in town is now at the bottom of my street. Where was this in high school?

Post-swim drop-in.

We went to an R&B club one night. Somehow I got through despite the dress code and minimum 25 year-old age limit. I enjoyed it except for this moment when I found out they didn’t have Bobby Brown’s “My Prerogative.”

Zoe was unperturbed.

Get Jacob to show you the double dutch sometime. He’s a master of modern dancefloors.

But is that enough to keep Zoe from the temptations of a well-dressed man?

I’ve got nothing to say.

Hayden wears an official shirt from the University of Tennessee. You’d think those academics would be able to spell it right.

On the way to the Quarry. NC swimming at its best.

Boys tossing rocks.

Dive.

Not fulfilling my legacy.

Cheers, Brunt.

Molnar has the steezy frontflips. Not to mention he can grab vampire if provoked.

I don’t miss southern girls at all.

Got my eyes on a winner.

This is why it’s good to be home.