This is a picture I pulled from a post from the other blog. Mainly because for whatever reason I seem to be completely incapable of writing properly today. I will attempt to write double tomorrow, but at the moment I seem to be suffering from some irrational stress to the point where I my eyes are dry and hands are shaking so he a picture from the time I duct taped a kitten to a rear view mirror.

I present this picture to all of you as proof of my fathers(Sisters) twisted nature. I have often stated my case for his general instability, I think this perfectly illustrates a latent instability in the man. As with any testimony worth its salt it is important to establish a time line of events.

11:52am Dec. 14th. sms message from Ken(Emily) to Robert: "Lunch in 5-10 minutes, where r u?"
11:53am Dec. 14th. sms message from Robert to Ken(Emily): "Be there in a min"
11:56am Dec. 14th. sms message from Ken(Emily) to Robert: the picture shown above.

Not even allowing for the 5-10 minute mark to pass I receive a photo of my childhood companion strung up like so much meat. Given the lack of time between messages it stands to reason that it was his(her) plan from the beginning to hang the bear, and one could even surmise that he sent the picture moments after the first text without waiting for my reply, given the poor quality of cell networks in and around Willard, OH. The point being the man was simply looking for a reason to hang the bear, this was not a act of passion or a spontaneous decision, but the well calculated act of a man(woman) who has done this before. He even went so far as to place a chair just so to throw suspicion off him(her) and make it look like a suicide. If it is not dealt with his(her) pathological need with ultimately need to be satisfied again and again, and next time it could be Ashley's blanket, or Cleveland Clinic Bear. It's time to make a stand.

I was driving to my first stop the other day, when I look up and see what appears to be the letters L O V, spelled out in the sky. Once the E in love was finished It became apparent to me what was going on. So I watched periodically, as not to crash, as the U took shape and thinking to myself that I was about to witness a marriage proposal or a anniversary gift of some sort, so when the J starts to take shape I imagine Jill, Jessie, Jen, ect. So I was taken a back to see JESUS spelled out. LOVE U JESUS, writing across the sky in a primarily residential neighborhood on a Monday morning around 9 am. What you are about to read will be slightly different from my normal post as I intend to hop directly on my soapbox. This message seemed to be one of the grossest waste of a churches or christian individuals money I have ever seen. I did the research, the minimum buy in for skywriting in that area is about $2000. 2 G's not to tell people that Jesus loves them, but that you have a special spot for the big guy. I don't know if the wrote it in that manner hoping he would see it, but it is a very strange thing to write. Also consider that on a good day in good conditions it will remain legible for 10 to 20 minutes at most, it was what the weather man would call a partly cloudy day, the population density in this area isn't that high, and most of it is either in school or at work. My best estimate puts it at 5 to 10 thousand people may have glimpsed this while legible. 2 grand. To put that is slightly better perspective consider this, the average Walmart Supercenter gets between 5 and 8 thousand people through the doors a day. If you paid a homeless man to hand out fliers with a short message and to say God Bless you I think it's completely possible to hit 2500 people on a 8 hour shift during peek hours. If you paid him 10 dollars an hour, 8 hours a day, 5 days a week, you could have him in from of a Walmart for 5 weeks. That gives him a punchers chance of seeing around 60 thousand people. Oh and you employ a person for more than a month. If that seems a waste you could sponsor 4.8 children for a entire year, food, shelter and a education for almost 5 underprivileged children. I could do about 5 more examples like this, but I think that's enough to make my point. I'm sure someone somewhere thought this would be a clever way to draw attention to Christianity, but what kind of attention? When it comes to a faith like Christianity the colloquialism of "All press is good press" in no way applies.

Ok, I will try not to write something like this for awhile. However, this just seemed so absurd. I have thought about it from the other side as well, and I understand the justifications for something like this, but I still think if you break it down to the core of the what they decided to write and the money spent (even if the guy who owned the plain did it of his own volition) it just seems like something the government would do, not the church.

One last thing, if there is a Hispanic man that looked up at aproximately 9am Monday morning and knew someone was wishing him well, then I am completely out of line and I apologize.

Enter a 70+ pound bee hive. Mind you this was no ordinary bee hive, it was an africanized bee hive. What does that mean you ask? It means that those killer bees you hear so much about made up at least part of thousands of bees in this hive. What does that mean? It means that the second I got out of my truck I was attacked, and when I got close to the hive I was attacked, and when I went back to my truck which was 50-60 feet away they came too, in fact I had to get into the cab of my truck and fill it with a raid like substance before I could take my bee suit off. When I cracked open the window box I found what was pictured above. The same thing was on the other side, and in the pic below is where it went to the other side. Removing the hive got me and most of my tools completely covered in honey, which is not as fun as it might sound. And bonus for me, it started pouring rain in the middle of the removal, extra points for standing under the lowest part of the roof so the water conveniently poured on me like I was under a few garden hoses. On a good note the suit worked this time so no violent tremors like last time.

Our First Official Picture

Maybe its cheesy. But I feel like a little cheese tonight, seeing as we ate some earlier. This is the first official picture of me and Robert as a couple. And our second photo together ever. The first one was taking while we were kayaking around a lake. Anyways, this was the day, or maybe two, before we headed out to separate areas of the world. Him to Chicago, me to New Hampshire. We were young, naive...and very very happy.

What's changed, you might ask? Well, we are older, wiser, a little bit sadder... but very very much in love.

Apparently I didn't get enough cheese tonight. :-)

This is my igloo. I made it one afternoon for fun. I would like to illustrate an opinion of mine that is tied directly to this igloo. Stepping back for a moment I don't know if it would be ethical to refer to it simply as my igloo, I did put the majority of the snow piling into it. Well maybe that isn't completely accurate either. I'll start at the beginning. The day the igloo was begun it had snowed 6+ inches the night before and we we're looking at 34 degrees outside, cold enough that the snow didn't immediately melt but warm enough to make it malleable. So I decided to begin gathering all the snow into a large pile with the intent to hallow it out as you see in the picture, I gathered about 2/3 of the total mass in the picture before I had to go to class, but that was enough to start the fever. By the time I returned the pile had grown and to my delight all available snow was atop it. When I inquired as to what had happened I learned that upon hearing about what I was up to the entire floor had gotten very into the igloo idea and scraped all available snow together, and I happened to arrive as they were gathering containers to fill with water to give the domicile a good hard shell so when it was hallowed out it would stand for many days. The igloo was dug out over that evening and the next day by many different hands. When it was completed nearly 80 plus individuals took their turns at a stay inside, it would hold 8-10 adults at once. This illustrates a belief I have held for a long time but only just realized I had. Winter is the best possible season, Fall may give it a good run for its money, but I will always back Winter. There is just something about the snow and cold that makes people get a little tighter knit. A certain satisfaction that comes from a day in the snow, the alleviation of that bone chill that comes from being out has more of a bonding effect on people than almost any other day to day experience. If you would grant me a moment of sappiness. Winter is when I met and fell in love with my wife, it is when we got married, and it marks the several months we spent sharing a living space no bigger than a small bedroom with a two bed snugged up to an ice cold wall and these are easily some of my most favorite memories.

Where Rob Is

So those twinkling lights in the background of the large explosions? Yeah, one of them is Rob. Its 11:16 at night, and he's been stuck here for about an hour now. A tractor-trailer ran into a car, which ran into another car, and apparently they all caught on fire and exploded.

This is why I have been commissioned to take on the picture blog for the evening. I only hope that the guy who caused all this had a good excuse- like a heart attack and died at the wheel, and not a stupid one like texting. Only death is really excusable for this kind of crime that would keep my husband away from me for so long and poor Rob on the road so late. And I hope this doesn't come across in a non-christian sort of fashion, but if the guy was stupid enough to be texting while driving a tractor trailer or anything as equally idiotic, well then he pretty much gets what he deserves. See they never mentioned in the news reports if anyone made it out alive.

This is my dog, I love my dog, however he was not nor has he proven to be an intelligent animal. Lovable, goofy, charming, but by no means intelligent. As was proven by our day at the beach. We found a beach up north that allowed dogs and decided to load him up and see what he thought about the ocean. Batman has a few predictable actions, one being if we run he will always, without fail, and with complete disregard for safety chase us. So to get him to go into the ocean we ran out a few feet thinking he would follow in at a moderate pass, and we could see how he liked it. However he charged in headlong, disappearing under a small have only to pop up a foot or two away with a big dopey grin on his face. My overarching fear of the ocean forced me to snatch him up, lest he be dragged out by a rip tide and be promptly consumed by the various denizens of the deep. So I took up to the safety of the beach and engaged in his favorite activity, digging. I would dig, then let him take a turn, he would dig two or three times, then stare at me and wait for me to take my turn, and this got us into a rythm. Now on one of my more zealous turns I looked away for a short wile, and when I pulled back to allow him to dig he was no where to be found. I looked to my left and saw him happily eating sand......

I was entering a Walmart early today in my normal fashion, ear buds in, eyes downs, and at a fast clip as to not be bothered by greeters. It took the time from me seeing the sign to be taking 3 steps to the threshold of the sliding glass doors for my brain to run over the image a few times, apply the analytical skills I have thus far acquired, and feed a conclusion back to my conscious mind. The conclusion? Something is not quite right with this sign. If you take the time to read youth services at then look at it a bit closer you can quickly understand that it is meant to be an adult holding a very small child in a protective and comforting embrace. However when you just glance at it your brain see's this.
If you didn't see that before, you will now. This place seems a lot less safe than the one we were just in. Who though woman were at risk of being groped by strangers at Walmart?

Never has a frozen confection so perfectly embodied the idea of sin as this ice cream cake available for purchase at your local Dunkin Donuts. I can only assume that this roll of lusty saturated fats weighs in at around 6 to 10 thousand calories, and who among us once begun could stop eating till the flavorful loaf of chocolate cake and ice cream lay in baked goods equivalent of rubble (IE crumbs). Even the first lady has gone on the war path lately attempting to address the fattening of America, well I have the culprit. A series of cakes apply named "roll cakes." This come in four disturbing flavors: standard, yule roll, bunny roll (I firmly believe 6 small rabbits were stuff into a easy back over to create this treat), and fudge mini... I am going to say that again because it makes me laugh, fudge mini... Apparently this is meant to be consumed alone as a low calorie (3400) alternative to an entire roll. If America is to be a great nation once more we put in end to products like the series of roll cakes. We as a people can not be expected to avoid the voluptuous curves, and perfect combo of cake and ice cream that results in a substance likely twice as addictive as heroin. It's time to write a congressmen.

This is a tale of adventure, or more accurately misadventure. This was the first, and so far last, time Kaje and I went camping. Mostly because neither of us bothered to ask the other just what exactly they loved about camping, we just agreed that we both had a special place in our respective heart for it, so we decided to go. So I loaded up my week pack with a lightweight tent, two mummy backs, 4 bottles of water, granola, and a footprint pad to prevent tent tearing. She grabbed a book bag filled with marshmallows, chocolate, graham crackers, hot dogs, and fruit roll ups. Though I would find this out later. We set out to the local hiking trails. For the first part of the day we hiked a few miles sans the packs just to get a look at the trails. Upon our return we found out that we needed to register to use the camp sites on the trails and the one we wanted was around a 10 mile hike, but was taken that night, so we had to use the one that was just a mile out instead. It was at this point I learned about the contents of Kaje's pack. It turns out that Kaje did what I would call Vacation Camping. The Kind that involved a camper, electricity, and toilets. When I think camping I think hiking 10-15 miles with a camel pack, water filter and not a whole lot more. Given the fact that we only had to go a mile I thought "what the heck" we'll mix the two worlds together and go to the Walmart we passed on the way in, pick up a soft cooler, ice, some soda, and some more snack... This was a very poor decision. We got directions from the officer who reserved the camp site for us. So bad in fact that he pointed West, the site was not West. None the less we set out that direction with our packs, and a cooler fully loaded with a 10lbs back of ice, soda, and hotdogs. After about 3 miles and noticing that the afternoon was well into evening Kaje thought maybe we went the wrong way. The cooler strap had made quite a furrow in my shoulder at this point, but we turned back to retrace our 3 mile trip to the parking lot. We made it out with about an hour of sun and decided to risk the mile trek, cooler and all, to the camp site. Apparently we we're starting to wear thin because it took almost the entire hour to get there, it also may have had something to do with the fact that is was almost 2 miles out. It was completely dark when we got there. Kaje impressed me with her ability to put up a tent she had never touched before quickly and in the dark. I managed to get a fire started by burning almost all of a notebook she had, and we had dogs, fruit rollups, soda, and smores. We played a little MASH in the tent on the scraps of notebook left, and Yahtzee got packed into the book bag of hers too. All in all we had a blast, I had some nasty blister from the cooler, but we made sure to eat everything we brought, so the 2 mile hump to the car in the morning wasn't so bad.

I know this is a bit different than the normal posts, but I love this story and sharing some of our ridiculousness on the two year anniversary of the day I tricked her into agreeing to marry me seemed ok.

I bring to you a rare glimpse not only into my job but into my embarrassment and foremost fear. What you are looking at above is the before and semi-after of a bee hive. I say semi-after because I treated the hive and when I returned to remove the comb I assumed I had dealt with all the little demons. Alas, I had assumed wrong and the price I paid was a hefty one. I placed my ladder aside the house and climbed confidently onto the roof, snapped the second of the two pics above, and strode over to the comb with gloves and a trash bag. The trash bag would prove to be my undoing. I set it down on the roof line and inched closer to assure the hive was indeed little more than 12 pounds of pocked marked mush. It was at this point I heard it. The buzz, which is the worst onomatopoeia, that signaled the bees, and there were many. I was stung on the thigh, and this was enough to get me to turn tail and attempt to blaze a trail back to my ladder, but that trash bag... I forgot about it entirely in my panicked fervor and stepped squarely onto it. Let me step back and ask this question. Have you ever been moving at a good clip through the living room of your respective dwelling and set a foot atop a magazine or errant piece of paper? Then you must know where I was headed. My feet shot out from under me with all the speed of two dragsters ripping off the line. Here is where another problem manifested. I was on a roof, but not for long. I crashed off the first story peek and into the shrubbery below. Luckily they opted for more traditional foliage, had It been a palmetto bush I do not believe I would be here to write this.

-I hate bees.

While perusing facebook today I decided to simply snag a photo of my lovely wife from the days before I graced her life... From the comments on this particular photo I gathered this was from her first year at Calvin. Further investigation proved that this hat was neither a gag or a one time thing. I sat down, as my heart began to palpitate. Could it be that my lovely and oh so unique wife was not only around the trends but more than that a setter, and or participant? This came as a shock to say the least. John Deer? I am not completely sure she had even seen a tractor prior to our meeting, so this compounded the infraction. Fear began to infect my consciousness, questions of whether I truly knew the woman I married, or was a lured into a trap by a master of disguise waiting for the fiscal capability to gain a lofty life insurance policy and cash in at the first opportunity? Surely a woman who was into trucker hats could not be with me for a long period of time. Then I saw it, a long sigh of relief escaped me, a tear came to my right eye, and I reached to wipe it with my right hand while caressing the screen, and reading the T-shirt logo. "Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle's" She may be a conundrum, but that shirt let me know that I was correct in slipping a pair of rings on her left hand.

Questions to readers.

Hello everyone who reads this, I have a question about the posts so far. That is, do you like the video's me and Kaje are making, or should I stick to the pics exclusively?

This is why photographers hate me. I know and fully accept that there is no one to blame but myself. That being said, I have an all but insatiable need to mess, mock, and generally retard the process of wedding photos. It is almost a need. I was able to reel it in somewhat for the two weddings I was in recently, but when my sisters tie the knot I come unglued. The same was true of my own wedding. Sadly had we already not been married I fear that my consummate horseplay may have made my lovely wife consider whether she was getting a man or a child. Some think I fly by the seat of my pants, I say this is a testimonial to something quite the opposite. The ridiculousness of this is only mild example of what one can expect to see at the reception, perhaps I'll find a picture of that later.

Here is a classic example of why the youth of today are so inept as to be approaching worthlessness. I'll get back to that, I think I ought to explain why I am in a wheel chair. My mom once was the proprietor of a local business known as Balloon Expressions. She would do the simple balloon sales we all see like those aluminum balloons used to express ones feelings, to the complex arches and pillars. It was this that led to her creating a giant balloon American flag for a parade float. Note: I am not entirely sure that any of that information is accurate, meaning that I know there was a float of balloons made in the American flag, and I know my mother had that business, but because of the injury I sustained to to that float I can not with any confidence claim the two are connected in any of aspect than my mind. That aside I was told numerous times not to lean against the wall of balloons, because it was a wall of nothing more than balloons. I did, fell through, smashed my tiny head into the concrete steps of one Willard High School, and sustained a concussion. I told you that to get to this. The reason my generation is defunct is because we are constantly rewarded for failure. I mean look at this. I directly disobeyed my parents and decided to do a back smacker into concrete and I get a ride in a sweet wheel chair and a bunch of new toys. It's a wonder I can even tie my shoes. I should've been locked in the basement for two weeks with reduced rations till I learned not to get concussions. You all will be happy to note that I am currently working on a parenting book that should be available by the new year outlining my cutting edge parenting techniques for a better tomorrow.

I best your not surprised to see me in a helmet surrounded by padding with a mildly stupid look on my face. You're thinking, "it finally happened and they finally put the crazy where he belongs. I hate to disappoint, but alas I have cleverly eluded capture up to this point, and plan to abstain from becoming a ward of the state for many years to come. This picture was taken during my brief stint as a pole vaulter. I'll let that sink in. I know it is hard to believe but I was once a lighter man and via something that could hardly be called a sprint, that ended it what is a pale substitute for a leap, I was able to hurl myself over a 11 foot high poll and sometime safely back down to earth. Though frequent I would hit the metal standards, or simply crash into the track, and in one memorable instance freak out at the peak of a 12 foot attempt and come smashing coccyx first into concrete resulting in what a chiropractor assumed to be a cracked rib, but was later proved to be bone bruising. The good ole days.

You may be asking yourself, who is this pedophile video the kids? Well let me correct you first off, I am not a pedophile and it is me. I assure that the intentions of this cinematic effort are completely altruistic. This picture was taken on my first ever trip to Orlando FL. Little did I know I would be living there in a matter of a few years. If fact the hotel is only 3 miles from my current home. But I digress, let us get back on track. This photo was taken during the filming of a infomercial for a preschool in the area as part of our class requirements. We spent an entire day filming activities and interviews with teachers. It was one of the all to brief forays into documentary film I have had the chance to do over the years. I have another one I am working on now, and I have a new one in the works that not even my wife knows about... That should get her asking questions.

What you are looking at is something that happens when Kaje leaves me alone for to many days in a row. Principally, I get bored. Now any Holthouse child can tell you there is little more capable of satisfying ones palette than a good pepperoni Chef Boyardee Pizza. However, sometimes that hunger stopping power isn't enough to assuage all my baser needs. I need entertainment. The Pizza face was not the first thing I molded with the dough, simply the one I found most pleased my particular humor. I had made a cat, cow, truck, football, soda can, and running shoe. None had the ring of rightness to me. The face seemed perfect, what with my overbearing acne problem in earlier years, the term pizza face simply worked. Thus for a brief time my ego allowed me to think of myself as an artist. Then I got hungry and ate my work, and it was good.

When the wife and I made the long trek from Chicago to Cincinnati we were a bit apprehensive about the move. Not at all sure where to go or why to go. It was the topic of much discussion from the time before we made the decision and through the long move down. We were looking for a sign, something that would give us a clear indication of where we were supposed to be. This about the time I decided to take a look out the drivers side window and saw this.

Intense right? Well when we were making the decisions to come down to Florida we were even more concerned. Well about a month back I read a article that popped up on yahoo. Here is what I saw.

Well I'm not at all sure Orlando is where I need to be, but I know I am not supposed to get anywhere close to Sincinnati Ohio ever again.

A frosty float can be consumed in a large number of ways. You could simply take the straw they provide and drink it slowly of the course of several hours as the hearty cream treat slowly released its icy goodness. Or you could take the spoon they provide and eat a large portion of crystallized chocolate confectionery thus reducing the amount of heat it can absorb and reducing the time require for it to melt and making the drinking portion of the event quicker and easier However, if would like to consume this delicacy like the many you undoubtedly are, there is only one way that makes anything approaching sense and that is to combine the simple grace of the spoon with the raw unadulterated masculinity of the SOG Paratool S31. This combo is so powerful as to let everyone within a 5 mile radius know that you are a man among men, that if a wolf were to happen upon you it would simple observe, nod its respect, and walk away with the reverence for an act chocked full of more testosterone that a Chuck Norris flick.

One of my brighter moments. This took place in front of 3 studio cameras in a tv production class, mainly because a variety of people we booked to be on the show cancelled, including the second person who was supposed to be the fight. So I had to step in. If you notice the color on my belt is less than intimidating. The person I am fighting is well trained and that lady was my instructor. I was not supposed to kick this individual as hard as I did, nor as many times as I did. However, once I am punched squarely in the face I tend forget what I am and am not supposed to do and just fight back. The downside of the camera's was that I could not deny that I had crossed the line a variety of times. Including blocking a kick aimed at me head hard enough to knock my opponent to the ground. Which means I didn't so much block the kick as punch his leg. As a result of all this I was made to do 200 push ups, 500 sit ups, 500 kicks, and 2000 punches that night at TaeKwonDo class rather than actually participate in the lesson. It was worth it.

Welcome to the majority of my junior/senior year of highschool. Yes I did spend it dominating varies Halo servers and I am only partially ashamed of my actions. Brad and I stayed up to all hours racking up kills a dominating in a fashion that little if any other area of my life has seen. My skills were honed to the point of freakishness. There was a game (this will mean nothing to anyone who does not drink at Halo's fount) where my D to K ratio was 118 to 4. I didn't get killed so much as decide to die.... Why can't I parlay that into my financial adulthood?

A Hypothetical Scenario

The festivities were cut short, guests scattered as screams filled the air. Sounds of the living and the dead mixed while confusion misted over the warm summer night. While people fled the beach, the groom held his new bride fast to his side quietly. She squeezed his arm slightly, looked once at him and then back at the growing army of slow movers, looking over the driftwood for a possible weapon. Before she could move, he pulled a gun out- from who knows where- and calmly regarded the approaching enemy. His blood pumping, eyes burning, he felt a wild stab of excitement which he pushed deep down to concentrate on his prey. His deadly eyes cooled down, blank faced...the moon mirrored him.

We thought we'd made it below the hillbillies... We were wrong. If you head into the heart of Florida you can find a mystical land the hillbilly calls Mecca. This is known as Gatoramma. At first things seem to be legitimate. Then we head out onto the board walk and things start to seem, well a bit off. If you look at the picture of the croc above closely you'll notice that something doesn't line up, mainly it's jaw. It appears as if the staff was sharing a few buds with the the gators and it came to blows ending in this poor animals broken jaw and the loss of a leg to the aforementioned employee. This alone wasn't enough for me to really think the might be a less than legit operation, what's pictured below was. Raccoons? Really.... Raccoons are not an animal you go to a zoo or much less Gatoramma to see. I can see a raccoon any time I want by leaving open dog food on any porch in the continental US. This operation is officially hillbillified.

It's hard to tell from this pic but this piece of PVC has 3 raccoons in it at the time of this photo.

Are you prepared for a night of feasting and entertainment the likes of which you have never seen before? You better be, because this is medival times. The most wondrous dining experience one can engage in on this planet. Would you like half a chicken? of course you would. Would you like dining utensils with which to consume your rotisseried delight? Absolutely not, real men rip into the succulent flesh of lesser creature with tooth and nail, because you're a man, not some over-cultured chick. Entertainment? you shall have it. Swords, jousting, and a somewhat out of place interlude in which a horse walks sideways and everyone claps. This is a truly Metal experience.

Allow me to paint a picture for you. A boy celebrates 10 years on this planet. All seems good, family, fun, and food. The cake is even shaped like a baseball cap, what more could a boy ask for. This can all be seen in a glance, but I'll ask you to do more than that, because glances can be deceiving. Look at the girl to left obviously that grin is forced, eyes wide looking slightly to the left, something is going on here. Then let your eyes track naturally to the right and fix on the one looking at the cake expectantly. You're thinking "well of course who doesn't want cake?" but I didn't say hungrily, that look conveys expectation of impending events. Now track up, if you only give her a cursory glance its a simple smile for the camera, but nay let your eyes focus on her for more than a second and you begin to notice the sinister gleam in her eye, head angled down, eyes narrowed, and a grin that's just a bit to big. However, the real give away is in the one you would never consider because of her general adorableness. The youngest puts her finger to her nose as the picture is being snapped. What you don't see so you couldn't know is the seconds following the moment this 35mm celluloid strip captured. For moments after the flash blinded me the candles were blown out and my world sped forward and down, the cake growing, and the realization that 4 pairs of hands were forcing me down. The last thing I was aware of was darkness.... and frosting... but mostly darkness.

This picture represents 2 years of my life and a series of decisions that lead me to pursue a degree in media. This is the DVD cover for a film mentioned before known as Snow. What is interesting about the cover is how it in no way relates to anything you could actually find in the movie. This was in fact a project for a Photoshop class I took in college, that Brad and I used as a excuse to leave class for about 45 minutes to snap a few pictures to use on the back of the box. There has never been a snowman in snow, the railroads tracks never appear in the final cut or any of the raw footage, and the get up on the far left is whatever was in reach at Glen's Surplus. Who knows why I choose to do the things I do, but we had fun and if I still had enough people around me I would make a 3rd film. Yes there was a second, no it was not any better than the first, and no it does not have a DVD cover.... Yet.