Click on the thumbnail to see the photo.
Meeting the President of the United States of America, Mr. George Bush. (I'm on the far right. ) When we were standing together someone said, "Hey, who's that with Durty Dan?"
The "Chunk-en-dale" Dancers. (I'm on the right hand side, kneeling.) I'm so sexy it hurts!
A Bunch of Fruity Guys. A failed attempt at alternate camouflage. Definitely got the "non-military" look going there.
The Ancient Paintball Player. Richard (Dick) Duquette, he was born right after they invented dirt. (I'm not in this picture.)
Skyball 2000. Bill Mills (W.A.R.P.I.G. and Paintball Magazine) trying to tell me politely to stop touching his wife, Dawn (also of W.A.R.P.I.G. and Paintball Magazine).
Me and all my fans at Big Game
I don't know who these idiots are, but they sure are funny lookin', ain't they? They followed me around all day and continually asked me for autographs, personal momentos, and picked up anything I dropped and put them in plastic bags and labelled them.
Rob "Tyger" Rubin. The second greatest paintball writer in the world.
A bunch of my fans sporting Durty Dan Fan Club Jerseys.
Me and two of my biggest fans. The guy in the middle asked for my autograph and a threw a bucket of paint on him. The guy on the left is drunk (which explains why he's wearing that shirt).
Bill and Dawn in official Durty Dan Fan Club jerseys. (Bill was speaking to me again because I stopped touching his wife.)
Showing an idiot how to use a semi. (Guess which one is the idiot and win a prize!)
The Morning Briefing at Durty Dan's Paintball School. Everywhere I go, I have to teach people how to play the right way. It's a heavy burden but most players thank me. Most of the players here (on their first time out) eventually ended up on professional level teams by the end of the month. They all attribute their success to my expert teaching.
Me and some of the finalists of the Durty Dan Look-a-Like Contest.
My paintball storage, workshop and computer room. Or as my wife calls it, "The Pit".
You meet the nicest people . . . The guy in the back (that looks like he's doing MACH 3 in a jet fighter) is drunk. (So are the other two guys, but they seemed to be able to hold their liquor better.)
Long Island Wild Geese. Some of my biggest fans. They really love me!
Me being Goofy, again.
SERIOUSLY THOUGH: Please do me a favour. If you're going to Disneyland or Disneyworld drop me some e-mail please, I'd like another one of those "Goofy" hats. I lost the one you see there when I moved. Please help. (I'll pay for the hat.)
Skyball '99 refs. I'm in there somewhere . . .
A heroic pose at Big Game 99.
An X-ray of me playing paintball.
A little bit of paintball history. This cartoon dates back to the early days of paintball.
NEW!You can also see an updated version by clicking 
At Big Game bribing the helicopter door gunner, Doc. Every year we get dumped on by Doc because we're easy to find in our red and black jerseys. For a while we had a general amnesty with Doc, and then a few years ago he'd just waste us if he saw us. At Big Game 2000 we decided to bribe Doc with a two-four (24) of Canadian beer. Every time he whacked one of us, we deducted a beer. He managed to get 13 beer out of us.
Firing the CanCon Tatergun. Bill Mills reported on the WARPIG page that my shot didn't go very far, due to the fact that I ate too much of my potato. I was the only one to hit the target. The reason for that being that when I was in the Canadian Army, that was our main anti-tank weapon.
First test of my light-refracting DD Stealth Jersey -- coming to a paintball store near you..
Belly up to "Durty Dan's Bar 'N' Grill".
I met this guy in a Wallmart and he recognized me and wanted his picture taken with me. Despite the fact that he's a tourney player he thought I was the greatest.
What happens when you drink beer.
Showing an idiot how to use a semi -- The Sequel. (Guess which one is the idiot and win another prize!)
Even check-out ladies at Wallmart want their picture taken with the great Durty Dan.
My female cat Mischief. Weighing in at approx 20 pounds!
My male cat Rutherford Osgoode St. John-Smythe III. A whopping 25 pounds of feline!
(Incidentally, St. John in a name is pronounced "sin-jinn". Don't ask me why, it just IS.)
See, I WAS in the Army!
The house I grew up in. Herring Cove, Nova Scotia, Canada. This picture was taken circa 1960 and became a jig saw puzzle. It was in the mid-Seventies when a friend of the family found this jig saw puzzle of our house. (The picture you see here is the box art.) We wrote to the company but the puzzle was discontinued. However, they sent us the print that is glued onto the cardboard before it is cut into a puzzle.
Not only am I famous, but my house is too!
That grey building you see partially on the right is now my parent's cottage. Litterally right on the water. The building itself is well over 150 years old and was used to store boats, nets and other commercial fishing equipment.
Speaking of my house: here's where I live now, as seen from space (i.e. satellite imagery). As you will see I have annotated all the buildings which are most important to me. The image includes material © 2000 Space Imaging L.L.C..
These photos are entitled
Me and my dad! He was in the artillery reserve for 21 years!
My first beer.
The bottle was empty, it seems almost everyone my generation (at least in the Maritimes) has a picture of themselves like this in their album. The man in the back is my Uncle Paul who taught mathematics at McGill, no less.
My grandmother (who lived to be 100!), my mom and me.
The day the fridge ice-maker when haywaire. This is a picture taken shortly after we shovelled all the ice out of the house.
Where I grew up. Herring Cove, Nova Scotia, Canada.
My first paintgun. Very primitive, but definitely intimidating . . .
My first job. Lead tuba in the "All Baby German Oom-Pah-Pah Band".
Me and my great Uncle Will smoking our pipes.
My first day of school.
Me, @ 10 years.
Every Christmas I would don my disguise and sneak downstairs to open my presents, thus started the myth of the "Christmas Bandit of Herring Cove".
The first time I realized that "cleaning" fish had nothing to do with washing them. You will note that I don't look too impressed.
Me @ thirteen.
Durty Dan, the disco king! (With nun for scale.)
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