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I am now exactly three-quarters of the way to middle age. My relevance to anyone under 23 is waning by the nanosecond. My teeth are chipping and rotting because I never developed a flossing habit. My knees make weird cracking sounds when I run up stairs. My eyeglasses prescription gets worse every time I visit my optometrist, which is at Costco. I have a Costco membership. My hair is getting ready to desert me completely any day now, I can just feel it. There are little pieces of grey in my chin stubble, which I notice during those random months when I decide to neglect shaving, to see if I'll be able to pull off the bald/beard combo someday soon (answer: "No."). If the anatomical studies are true, my cursed male nose and ears will never completely stop growing. I should get a tattoo. Or maybe like 45 of them. Tattoo guys are agelessly cool. Then I'll buy a motorcycle. I'll launch a full-fledged surprise attack on this imminent midlife crisis before it strikes like a thief in the night. I've never even been to a strip club...

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probably just for the freak show factor.
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Blankets
Blankets
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Mannekin Pis


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Evan Almighty

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Links:
Nearly all of the photos are by Danny, except for the ones that are obviously not his, and the three photos of Craig drawing onstage in Paris are by Pierre-Yves Arnoux, the three photos of the guys in Nuremburg (playing on a nice red carpet) are by Alexander Puchta, and the photo of Tu Fawning is by Alicia J. Rose.