2. This next photo closely resembles my vision at 3 am, searching for those last calories to fuel my dreams. I don't dream as often as i did when i was a kid, but when i do it feeds my weeks out put of tunes rather well. Truth is, half the things you see i this pic would destroy my stomach. Living with lactose intolerance is no joke. It's a good thing i like to torture myself. I will say this, a yogurt a day, keeps the feelings away. Especially if you grind up a xanax into your morning parfait. I kid. Seriously I have a weak stomach when it comes to dairy.
3. And finally the front of my freezer tells a lot about me. Magnets from my travels. But what they hold up is a different story. A 4 star review of my next album in Mojo, so I can be reminded every few hours how fucking bizarre life is. Photos of my friends and family. Local restaurant propaganda. A birthday card reminding me Not To Be Taken. Also, if you look closely towards the lower right corner, you can clearly see where my dirty hands grip the machine with all the lust of a hungry mans heart beaten down by hours of difficult TV watching. Inside the freezer are zip lock bags full of surprises. Some deliciously chocolate and some I can't go into detail here. Some little green plants.
4. The final triptych illustrates the time I was eating dinner and saw my fathers face in an oily bag of tortilla chips. You can clearly see the outline of his chin and nose and right eye. He has an expression on his face as if to say, "Andrew, I am watching you at 3 amwith your dirty hands and your lactose decisions." I have outlined said features to help you realize what I am dealing with over here. I also love tea.