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"Live, under the stars...
In a perptual state of disarray, Rich lives and breathes a
modest existence of bacchanalian..."
More about Rich
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Messaging Off[Restricted to Rich's friends] |
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Schools (Other):
Maui High, University of Hawaii
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Occupation:
I get paid to steal peoples' souls
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Affiliations:
National Press Photographers Association, Sportsshooter.com
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Hobbies and Interests:
music, photo, cocktails, kareeokee weekend in the suicide shack, general bacchanalia and grand hedonism
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Favorite Books:
anything by Hunter S. Thompson, anything by Dazai Osamu, Best of Photojournalism, World Press Photo Yearbook
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Favorite Movies:
Insert random Woody Allen title here
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Favorite Music:
Pearl Jam, Mad Season, Black Keys, Stereolab, Alice in Chains, Foo Fighters, Mother Lovebone, Hellbound Hounds, CKY, Neil Diamond, Soundgarden, Ningenisu, Phish, Screaming Trees, Smiths, The Darkness, ElectricSix, Stereophonics, St. Etienne
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Favorite TV Shows:
Monster House/Garage, Mythbusters, Simpsons, Real TV, anything that bleeds
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About Me:
Live, under the stars...
In a perptual state of disarray, Rich lives and breathes a
modest existence of bacchanalian mood swings and
general hedonistic strangeness that most can't, or are
simply unwilling to accept, much less understand.
Rich, writing in the third person, feels that the only way
to sheer bliss and the ultimate understanding of this
strange life is to seek the truth by dissecting all around
him.
In a general fog that lifts for brief moments, he
stumbles through the mire that is the destruction and
flames all around. Most don't see the true beauty in
bearing witness to the absurdity of the human
condition.
Rich has lived a strange life. And frankly speaking,
things get only stranger. But isn't that the point? Is there
a limit to the strangeness that one human can tolerate?
When the freaks assemble like so many moths to a
flame, what's the proper decorum?
Presently residing in the dusky loins of metro-Honolulu,
Rich spends his time alternately working, and sitting
with a cloven cig in one hand and a cocktail in the other.
It's a difficult task, and he recommends that only trained
professionals attempt such a lifestyle.
'As your photographer, I advise you to drink heavily.'
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Who I Want to Meet:
A trained professional.
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How you're connected:
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Rich is in your extended network |
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Rich |
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at Anyplace Cocktail Lounge, drag this lean,
lanky lensman along. He can croon an
Okinawan tune like Mrs Fukuhara. He can
tell a good tale about his father's eyeglasses
too.
There's no one else I like to sing the
karaoke version of "My Way" with. Long
live long island iced teas!
holding candles on the side of Farrington
Highway with the twilight of the 6 p.m. Ewa
sky in the background. It so fit the mood of
the story I was writing that I almost creamed
my pants. He's got the eye and the passion
for the biz not to mention the liver to
celebrate afterwards. Plus he sings these
rockin karaoke songs in Japanese including
one about going muff-diving in Tokiyo (Not
Tokyo, Tokiyo. That's what the damn thing
said, I shit you not.) That and he's from Maui
as well, which is pretty much the coolest
place on Earth. GO SABERS!!!
Mein Mittag war gekommen, zu speisen;
ich, zittert, der, hat den Tisch nah
gezeichnet,
Und hat den neugierigen Wein beruhrt. .
. or something like that.
Behind the cloud of smoke lies an
incredible photographer, an ace craps
player (gimme a yo!), and a very special
friend. My life and liver have not been
the same since meeting you,
abunai.. and thats the extent of my
japaneses... sad no..
on the move. Armed with sharp eyes
and an artist's soul, he can change
the way you think about your world
with a single photo.
spock the pictures from aquaria? im
sure they're really good because, well,
you took them :)
one of three items on his arm: a hot
chick, an ice-cold (and stiff as a
mofo) drink, or his trusty sidearm. I
don't get to knock them back as
much as I really should with this
dude, but hopefully that will change
now that I'm his FRIENDSTER.
Bahahahahaha...and I just got home
from the club to write this too.
Anyway. Rich is a cool cat. Know that.
black was like getting money from the
ATM. And he was like chasing some green
monster in lake wilson. It was like
totally surreal.