April 2012
1 post
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Scaredy Pants Are My Fat Pants
When I moved away from Hawaii in my early twenties, my dad—a man of so few words, I’d listen wholeheartedly at the crack of introspection in his voice—told me: “I don’t worry about you. The only thing I worry about is that you’re fearless.”
It was the greatest compliment anyone has ever paid me. This was the badass in the Vietnam photo with a bottle of...
