To whom it would have concerned: I never got along with you, but you made my mom smile. Looking back, I should have at least said thanks for that. Looking forward, I’ll try to remember that sometimes when they give us 2-4, we get 1.5.

Carpe vita.

I was doing a load of laundry upstairs (where my landlord, Mark’s grandmother) lived. Mark gave me a quick tour of my old (pre-K) apartment. Unfortunately my camera’s batteries died after I took a single photo.

So without further ado, this pile of random debris collected by a pack-rat (Mark’s uncle) was once the pile of random debris that was my living room:

But this couple were first all over each other, then in some fit of enraged determination the beefy guy grabs her by the wrists and literally shoved and drug her to our side of the bar where he proceeded make her watch him stroke the inner thigh of the stripper and stuff a few ones DEEP into his underwear. She then looked up, barely able to focus on the stripper 2 feet away, and just barely managed to grab some dancer crotch before she lost all motivation and they disappeared into the ‘girls room’ for 40 seconds, came out and stumbled off into the nether regions of the bar.

At first, I had the unedited photo up and after reflecting a bit on just how large this guy is, I decided it was in my best interest to hide their identity a bit.

Some other photos from that night: