Another boy named Justin

I met Justin Borucki many years ago, probably eleven, maybe more. I met him on Staten Island and asked him to take photos of my band. And he did. And it's been a creative brainstorming love affair ever since.

We've created album covers together that people love, hate and love to hate. We've been banned and censored. I've had to call him at least twice saying

"Hey J, its J. The record company is pissed, we need to talk"

J.Borucki was the first guy to ever offer me real jug-in-an-old-basement moonshine. It was left there by the tenants before them and they still drank it at parties when it got late. This was when he was living in Bay Ridge. When I picked up the bomb in a box from his doorman, he was somewhere else near the park. Near where the dude from Violent Femmes lives. Yeah, over there.

He's been my right and left hand man on many projects. Sometimes we don't speak for months, but when I call him up with a new idea for a new album or whatever, it's like no time has passed at all and we're back to finishing each others sentences and immortalizing ideas. It's a very unique friendship and working relationship that I really do not have with anyone else in this world.

This is usually how it goes:

"Hey J, its J. We're doing a new record. I kinda wanna have the Virgin Mary as a suicide bomber because the record is gonna be called "Our Lady of Annihilation" call me back when you can"

A few days later he'll call me and say "check your email."



This is the kind of shit Justin Borucki does. He's a great fucking dude; sincere and brilliant and I'm proud to say "I knew him when" he didn't have long hair.

Go check out his new website JUSTIN BORUCKI.com and hire him to photograph something fancy.