His Name Is Kurtis

"Tell him you want him to finish a beer in four seconds and he will keep trying until he does it" - Brandon

"I have video of him smashing a fucking Heineken keg can on his head until it dented" - Innocent anonymous bystander

"He's turning thirty the day after the barbeque." - State of Vermont birth records database

T-shirt pattern by Jackson Pollock

Brandon - my brother - found this guy somewhere. Details are vague, but this guy should have his own traveling shit show. His name is Kurtis.

I've never met Kurtis. The only Kurtis I know has been immortalized in static and live-action film while engaging in heroic feats of "jackassery." Most images I've seen of this living legend are party photos taken in a time-lapse fashion. These aren't nature shots of dew slowly retreating from the tips of grass blades in the morning. Nor are they of a rare sea turtle egg hatching. These are far more explicit and carnal. Consider that a warning. Proceed with caution.

Kurtis' montages typically document his PBR-fueled adventures from first beer to unconsciousness. From what I can tell they last approximately 26.2 minutes (aka - a "Kurtis Marathon.") One can typically tell how far Kurtis is into the event by the following:

3 minutes : Beer Fangs

"Beer fangs are for pimps."

Five Minutes : Ambition

Ten Minutes : Seasonal

(Depicted - winter)

Fifteen Minutes : Time Travel

(Kurtis returning from duty as a trucker in 1997. Note 6 lb cell phone souvenir.)


Twenty Minutes: "Baby Please"

"No seriously, come here... I'll show you them."

Twenty-Two Minutes : Certain Defeat?

Twenty-Three Minutes : "Aww hell no"

Twenty Seven Minutes : Fallen Hero

According to the locals, Kurtis regenerates and emerges days later more powerful than before. Much like Jesus, but with a smaller t-shirt.


Special thanks to Brandon for a lifetime's worth of photographic documentation and - of course - Kurtis.

PS - Don't eat me (or try to drink me) on Memorial Day.