Brutkey

Michael Kazarnowicz
@kazarnowicz@unstraight.club

I worry that I come across as too serious here, so in order to dispel any illusions I offer you my 22-year-old self, on a road trip that took us to Vegas, Grand Canyon, Death Valley and San Francisco.

It was the tamest Vegas trip ever made in terms of well, everything, and looking at this photo I understand why. But we did have fun enough to repeat that road trip thrice. Once I ended up hypnotized on stage, and there are DVDs out there with me "auditioning for a porno".

See 🧵🧵 for more of me.

A young man leaning against small building in a desert landscape. Since that young man was me, let me paint the picture best I can: A black t-shirt and dark blue cargo pants. White socks and sandals. A plastic gadgety watch on the left wrist, it has a gray frame an a large white button. The sunglasses can best and kindest be described as very gadgety with their plastic, golden frames that are almost the opposite of what I should wear considering the shape of my face; they make my face head seem weirdly long. The fact that I was allowed to run around like that unstrained is proof that there is no such a thing as "fashion police", at least not when you need them. The only good thing about them is that they hide the piercing in my left eyebrow. And then there's the hair. My hair back then was a dark brown until the bleaching incident that made it the look on the photo. It's blonde-ish, leaning strongly on the yellow. It looks like the hair on those small trolls you put at the end of a pen as a kid, feels. Note that it is saved by professional and expensive intervention, since the (double) home bleach left it a very, very, very bright shade of orange. I have never since bleached or colored my hair.