b i r t h d a y

Jazz hands.

Of course we ate. Of course I took a picture.

Billy and Boyd.

Pepi Ginsberg. Holy Moly.

Deer Tick.

Sax in the backseat of my Camry.

That accent could spark some westward expansion.

Burly men love Lady Gaga.

Dr. Dog. I'm speechless. Just angelic.

contd.

They played the Breeze. Jesus. !

ah, still speechless.

Some guy crowd surfing at his bachelor's party.

Syllables are attempting to connect still.

Man, it was a fucking amazing birthday.

My spoils of war. And my tote bag arsenal ever amasses and carries my shit.

I want to thank Farid and Andrea for co-piloting this adventure with me.