Live with Passion.

About

Once upon a time there was a boy named John. 
He liked Harry Potter, musky cologne, good music, superheroes, expensive clothes, texting, and a good competition. He was the smallest body on a volleyball court, with the hardest swing, the biggest mouth, and the most intensity. He could never drive a stick shift. He had jumped off buildings, out of planes, been to sin city and could pour a really mean drink. 
This boy was a total shit head, but somehow people still managed to like him.
 Maybe it was his uncanny ability to charm the pants (yes, the pants) off of just about anyone, his tendency to use obscene humor, or his ability to talk to anything with brainwaves. Life was never easy for John, always interesting, and full of amazing people. And that was the way he liked it. He knew he wasn't perfect, never attempted to appear as such, and always did his best to make anyone around him laugh. He was a fierce enemy, but an even fiercer friend. He sang too loud, drove too fast, and upon occasion felt too much. The life of the party, the guy with the smile, the kid with the glow-in-the-dark shoes, the best friend, and the one who at the end of the day didn't give a fuck about things that didn't matter. That was John. 
And they all lived happily ever after?



Also, I don't own any of these photos, except when I say I do, obviously.