I few various photos from assorted events...
We decided to mosey over to the city to catch a show...I didn't really
know dick about either band but it
was going to be free and we were bored and more importantly I wanted
some Jay's Cheesesteak
(conveniently located across the street from the Independent).
The headliner was The Dears but the opening band Young Galaxy was the
treat of the evening.
I didn't love everything they did but there was enough good there to
make me interested to hear their
album. According to the band this was just their third
show. But they were Canadian, so you have to
take that into account.
Later in the month it was another trip into the city, this time for our
friend Brandy's birthday. We took
BART over the the Mission, and Chelsea was even kind enough to put in
her formal glass eye so that
she would look her best.
I was dicking around with the camera (as per usual) and just as I took
this photo my friend Heather
entered into the frame on the right.
Her and her old man Bob were headed to a work holiday party...we shot
the shit, as folks are prone
to do, en route to our seperate drunken endeavors.
The birthday girl! Brandy turns 21 again...
Chelsea and Brandy.
Brandy recieved not one, but TWO copies of the Amy Sedaris book.
But truth be told, there is no
such thing as too much Amy Sedaris.
Brandy's old man Clay inspects the haul of presents while Patty
partakes of the delicious chips
this restaurant served, whose name escapes me at the moment.
My inner 14 year old self wants to come up with a caption for this
photo involving the phrase "doo
doo chip", but since I'm an adult I'd never do that.
Clay works at the poop factory* in South San Francisco, which I always
find endlessly fascinating.
* his place of employment is probably more commonly known as a Waste
Treatment Facility, but
poop factory sounds way more awesome.
Smores nachos for dessert...they brought a blow torch to the table and
browned the marshmallows
right there in front of you, which translated into a photo that makes
me think of "Close Encounters of
the Third Kind" every time I look at it.
Studies in still life, portrait one - this one is titled "I'm Goddamn
For whatever reason, I had my camera with me at work and decided to
document my depressing
cube farm location. Not that I'm complaining, this job was
awesome, I never saw my boss and
pretty much just worked on my own and never had ot deal with shithead
...but best of all, there was virtually no dress code. I wore
jeans and t-shirts every single day.
At some point later in the month Chelsea's broham Skyler came over to
presents...we spent quite a while playing with this ball game
contraption and giggling like fools.
Action shot!!! Chelsea goes for the gold.
Despite evidence to the contrary, I am not mentally disabled.
Some folks call it cheating. I call it stacking the odds.
I recently had a second chin installed, I'm hoping it will increase my
resale value by a couple of
grand whenever we decide to sell.
You're doing it wrong.
You're doing it wrong too. It must run in the family.