I just ate ten pounds of cowflesh, and maybe a dozen tablespoons of mayonnaise, feeling upper Minnestoa.
Off to Patch-hog this weekend for a brief bender with Cap'n Tuz and crew, should be aces.
Last week was brutal on multiple fronts, most worrisome - the U.S. men's gymnastic team. Imagine me listening to the following "show 'em how we roll! Sup y'all, we bangin!", voiced over by our little impish floor generals, peace signs flying, tight sabres at attention, gads. I'm sticking to the men's indoor volleyball team coverage - a collection of Chris Dudley's with bad haircuts and questionable ink. Those guys know how to party.
We had the Altar airlifted into the living room. Beav supervised and snapped these, so rad:
Mom is in some kind of new mothers of Greenpoint group now, cannot wait to crash this party:
Crazy dinner party at 24 Powers last night. Toby + Gigi's birthday party. A++ chow and company. Super fun, Jane slept in the downstairs bathroom during dinner, an angel. Good looking crew.
I'm off to Brasil next week, here's to being kidnapped.
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