fiasco. gallery

I miss the good old days, when you had to cycle 10 miles to see if your friends were home, and if they weren’t there, you had to look for them everywhere in the village. That you had to come home before the lights came on at night. And then you fell with your bike, had a hole in your chin and a swollen ankle. And that you came home too late because it took longer due to your injuries. And your mother was so angry because you were late, and she punished for that un top. That you were bullied by your older brothers, and at school by others. Until you got fed up with it, and you where waiting for your bullies around a corner with a piece of wood, and you beat them up completely. So bad that those bullies went to a completely different school. Oh how I miss those days, growing up in the 70s without computers and cell phones. you had to learn everything the hard way. But I enjoyed it, what a learning experience. It made me what I am, a professional asshole.