Post Panic! At the Disco and Super Bowl XL Pics!
I forgot to use my camera at the Panic! At the Disco show (and my eyes looked too scary to post in like half the pictures taken), but here are the acceptable pics from Jillian's.
(Jill, Me, Taryn)
Jill.
Taryn.
Together.
As paid escorts.
As lesbians.
As lesbians again.
Taryn was convinced my tongue touched Jill's, but it didn't.
You whore! Don't you look away when I'm in a picture with you!
Goofs.
I'm a stud.
Or at least happy about pretending to be one.
A good Jill shot.
Cute photo op with Taryn.
Cute photo op with Jill.
My tongue loves boobs. Loves'em.
Close-up.
More Taryn.
Mmmm, ladyfriends...
I like these background/foreground shots.
BOOBS!
They said it was going to take an hour and a half, but I swear it was only a 30-minute wait for pool.
(Or maybe time flies when alcohol is involved. You be the judge.)
I try to explain the concept of nine ball and teach form....
But this picture of Taryn's form pretty much proves my ineffectiveness as a coach.
I like this picture for some reason. It's of my back.
There's more than one way to look good with a pool cue!
Ditto.
Not that I look that impressive at the table myself. Good times!
(And I don't care what you say, my hair looks cool here!)
It wasn't the biggest or baddest of the SEVEN Waterman Super Bowl Parties, but Super Bowl Party VII brought forth three intriguing new things that all stood out to me: Giant Football Helmet Stickers (Of which I have no pictures), Beam Racing, and end of the night wrestling, as previewed above.
I'm getting ready for the party, filling a pitcher with water for beirut.
(I think T took this picture. I don't think I took any pictures at the party myself.)
Not even winning $100 was enough to stop those suicidal thoughts in Jake's head. Lacey offers an extra $20.
His girlfriend is almost worried enough to come check up on him, but instead heads downstairs for more beirut.
Sometimes I like throwing girls around, but the pictures of this always make it look cute. I'm awesome.
I explain the nuances of beam-racing to my sister, who is preparing for a grudge match
against her person, as said person, Mikey, listens in hoping to soak in any bit of my wisdom.
They race; I judge.
And then they hug. PUKE!
Some people chat at parties. Is that football on TV? Ha, nope. Oops.
Who let these assholes near a camera?
No, seriously. Who?
Taryn's middle name is Marie. Now you know.
At the end of the night, my recent desire to be involved in a fight club is fulfilled when
Jeff challenges me to a wrestling match.
We move so quickly during the match, that it's all just a blur in the picture.
(Or, ya know, I suppose it's possible someone had the camera on the wrong setting.... But I doubt it.)
About halfway through the fight, I feel like I'm getting my ass kicked. (Probably because I am.)
But by the end of my first match, I've got it all figured out and I win.
Next up: Jeff and Glen.
And it went back and forth...
For like 10 minutes.
But in the end Glen prevailed.
Then I beat Glen. And this time I kind of knew what I was doing, but I was totally exhausted by the end.
Dick vs. Jeff. I'm told that Jeff won, but I missed the whole thing, because I was puking in
the bathroom due to over-exhaustion.
(Note: I'm pretty sure I had another match with Jeff and that I won pretty handedly, but there are no pictures
to prove it, and I was so over-exhausted that it's possible I just imagined it. Can I get a ruling on this?
Does anyone know? Did this happen or did I just see it in the crystal ball that is my toilet bowl?)
Note: I think T is the only one who actually remembered to take pictures at the party. (Although, ironically enough, I'm not sure he remembers taking the pictures.) I'll post a link when he gets his online.