In my youthful days, days that were full of exuberance and excitement of playing with text and displaying total disregard for limits of my font book and Photoshop I did what I thought would give an immense depth to my typographic repertoire.

I was like a soldier full of excitement packing for a trip behind enemy lines as I would be dropped from the plane. I cleaned my gun, made sure it was true. I loaded a bullet into the magazine, one by one, click after click, meditating. Now I need to pack food, this is where I faltered. I took too much, with the hopes that if I were left for too long behind enemy lines I would have an abundance of food. With total recklessness I loaded as much as I could into my pack and jumped off. The chute deployed, my worst fear behind me. The sheer weight of all that I packed brought me to the ground at a higher velocity than I expected and I fell straight on my pack. The sheer force of my mass impacting all the supplies in my pack caused it to burst and all contents to seep out and onto my ammo and gun. Now my gun, sluggish and greasy is not longer in best condition. I see an enemy and from the cover of the darkness fire on this lone terror, but my gun falters, shit, enemy alerted, my position compromised. I need to clean my gun.

So I removed over 1200 fonts I collected from my font book, the same fonts that compromised the gears of Photoshop because of my gluttony. Never again, I can get supplies when needed.