| Well, it seems as if my first installment of 'Jeff Dahlin's Wonderful/Horrible Life' was a success. I heard back from many of you and I appreciate the kind words. I just got my camera fixed, so I'm back on the wagon, snapping photos and writing captions that are sure to piss off all of my good friends. Sorry, everyone. Really. |
| Ryan's moving in to my house this week (I've always wanted an Italian Jew roommate!) and when he was carrying stuff inside the other day I was like "Dude! That shirt!" and he just put a finger to his lips, nodded, and was like "Sshhh. I know." |
| This picture was taken of Bukolt and me in Moab, Utah. You can't see it, but the overhang was seriously hundreds and hundreds of feet above the ground. The main thing I remember about this moment was thinking "Man, I am way too fucking high for this!" (sorry Mom). After the photo got snapped, I carefully got up, ran away from the cliff, and (after sobbing and shaking for a while) tried to act as if I didn't piss my pants a little (I told everyone the stain was iced tea). |
| Amity likes this photo because she looks good in it, but I like it because of Trevor. The expression on his face says more about him than I could ever explain to anyone. If you know Trevor, you know what I mean. The fact that he's wearing a shirt that says 'Please Drink Responsibly' makes this shit so good, it's like Jesus winning the lottery and buying everyone an unlimited supply of Whip-It's. Well, maybe it's not that good, but you catch my drift. |
| This is a more typical photo of Amity and I. I was pretty drunk here, but I think I was pissed at her because I was trying to convince her again that years earlier, it was Kyle who had slapped her on the ass, causing her to fall and break her thumb (and she's right not to believe me, it was me). But still, Amity, why do you have to bring everyone down all the time? Fuck you. |
| Ah fuck, it's this gang. These guys have gotten me into more trouble than anyone else, and case in point: when this photo was taken we were at some bar in Scottsdale and I suggested that we all remove our scrotums from our jeans for the picture. We did it, and I forgot who took the picture (some girl probably), but they did a shitty job and didn't get a good shot. Anyway, a couple of minutes later, some bouncer came up to us and was like "You guys all have to go, you can't be whipping out your nuts at a bar." We ignored him and kept drinking, and by some miracle the bar employees didn't fuck with us anymore. I think Tate had to get carried out. This photo contains two lawyers, an accountant, several managers of various kinds, and a magazine publisher, but all I see are the kids that raised so much hell in high school and college that teachers would cry in class, cops would get called to campus regularly, suspensions were a normal thing, expulsions eventually resulted, and I can say with perfect confidence that everyone pictured has committed multiple felonies. Man, we were bad kids. And Mikey is the worst. |
| Shane started calling me 'Morty' years and years ago, because he said I "threw salt in everyone's game, Morton's salt" and I move in and hit on girls that my friends are already trying to hook up with. And, might I add, I got pretty good at it. Eventually, I started introducing myself as Morty, and maybe it will all end with me getting a 'Morty' tattoo or having the headstone on my grave read something like "Here Lies Morty, a total asshole who fucked up things for his pals when they were trying to get laid". The first time Shane called me that, we were at Fred's in Huntington Beach, and I spoke with a British accent to these two girls the whole night. Eventually, I ended up in a construction site with the girls, doing strange sexual things that I'm ashamed to write here, while the boyfriend of one of them took pictures. Shane was pissed because he thought that I boxed him out, but seriously, he could have come along, I don't know why he didn't. You missed out, man! |
| Lindsay invited me to a wedding in Arizona, and I asked "Will there be an open bar?" She said yes, so I decided I would go. As luck would have it, Bukolt and Jeni were going as well. From the very start, Jason was on a mission to get wasted. Before I knew it, everyone was dancing, and dancing hard. |
| Wait, did I say everyone was dancing hard? That's not exactly true. It was just us and this little kid, who was hell bent on showing up Bukolt. This little fucker had such a determined look on his face and wouldn't stop his onslaught of moves. Finally Bukolt and I took him around back and roughed him up a little (no face punches or anything like that, but Jason got a good stomach punch in that knocked the wind out of the kid). Then we made him drink a shot of Jameson and told him to get lost. By this time, Jason was going on and on about this foot fetish he's developed, and how he likes to suck toes and shit like that. When Jeni wasn't looking, I let him get a taste of Lindsay. We were the very last people at the wedding. Thanks for everything, newlywed couple I just met! |
| I've grown a few mustaches in my day, but Pete rocked this beautiful lip beaver at work for a couple of days and weirded out the whole office. The first day that he did it, I got on his computer at lunch and sent an email out to coworkers that said: "Hey everyone, just wanted you to know that I'm starting a babysitter business. I'm not great with smaller kids, but if you've got a daughter in middle school or even high school, I'd be glad to lend a watchful eye over her when you're gone. I've got a passion for this kind of thing, so please don't hesitate to call! xoPete" Pete got fired a short time later under strange circumstances. |
| I keep telling Alvino not to flash the 'Heil' sign in public, but the guy never listens to me. I don't think he even knows what it means. Anyway, I've always loved the below photo because it gives you a glimpse into Nick's future--imagine him putting on about 75 pounds, wearing a dirty wife beater all day, smoking cigars, and becoming that dirty old Italian dude who breathes real loud. |
| Many times, when I'm drinking, I like to find the toughest looking dude at the bar and mess with him a little bit. Eventually, this is going to land me in the hospital, but I have to say it's been fun so far. These guys have told me some crazy shit! Once, a guy named 'Tank' told me how to kill your girlfriend and get away with it. He said he had done it. When I got home, I made sure to write down everything he told me for future reference. Incidentally, these guys always look exactly the same. |
| It's an exiting activity. I imagine it provides a similar thrill to big game hunting. For the photo below, I even grew a handlebar mustache to make myself look tougher. I think it helped me to fit in pretty well. |
| Bukolt looked for a 'Brokeback Mountain' calendar for months and months before finally getting his hands on one. Our pal Mac tracked one down and presented it to him in March. Jason got a little misty-eyed, but kept himself together pretty well. It's hanging in his office right now. |
| Pete, Lindsay, Molly, Shane, and I went to go see Phil Shane at Alex's Bar in Long Beach recently, and we all decided to have a drink or two. Things started out innocently enough (look at Lindsay's sweet pose), but we must have been drinking 'Ma Cletus' Fuck-All-Devil-Horsecock-Ballsweat Insanity Juice' because things got pretty out of hand after that. |
| Lindsay went from 'innocent' to 'not innocent at all' in about 30 minutes. Molly's never been innocent at all, so who knows if she was even drinking (she was actually, quite heavily. |
| I was sporting a pretty manly-looking mustache that night, so I made sure to look tough in all of the photos. That is, until I passed out and everyone started messing with me. |
| And what the fuck is this!!??? Molly, you crazy bitch, that's my couch! And the thing that burns me about this photo is that there I am, right behind her, sleeping like a little baby while all this goes on. At least Shane got a good photo of her when she fell unconsious. Later, he fisted her while she slept. |
| Lindsay got home from some photo shoot one day and I asked her "Can I have some of the pictures?" She was like "Uh...why?" to which I replied "Oh, no reason. Make sure you send them though, ok?" After I showed my friends, my boss, the carpet cleaning guy, my neighbor's son, and a bunch of dudes that I don't really like who are always hanging out in front of the 7-11 by my house, I figured I'd post one up here. You've got to admit, it's a pretty fucking hot pic! What the hell, before I quit I'll post another one: |
| Well, I think that's it for this installment. No one's sent me a single fucking photo yet to be posted up here, so get on that shit! I'd like to get some old ones, like the time we caught JR giving a handjob to that Mexican dude in the bathroom at Dos Gringos. Email 'em to me at jeffdahlin@yahoo.com Be sure to sign the guestbook! |
