Flippin' the bird, drinkin' some beer
Time for a change! After all the friends-only entries about the clusterfuck my work life has become, I share with you now what's really important in life: Beer.
Now wait, I know what you're thinking: Since when do I drink beer? I recently developed an affection for beer, which is weird, because I got through high school, college and broke post-college without ever getting into beer. Now, suddenly, when I almost have enough money to support my more costly drinking habits, I kinda start digging beer.
Anyway, it was the second anniversary of Bar Hop (and I tip my cowboy hat to my better half in Bar Hopping, Miss Katie Fee). The theme was cowboys, which can mean space cowboys, and the theme was cowboys because last year it was pirates and one can't be repeating oneself, am I right?
If there are any dogies about, Kyle looks well-prepared to tell them to get along. In the background, Jeremy molests a plastic cup.
Why I felt the need to photograph my Hefewizen is beyond me. Beer - the cause of and sometimes subject of life's strange photographs.
Rhinestone Cowboy Ali (you should see my belt buckle! And no, that's not a euphamism.) The guy in the background is kind of looking at the camera - I'm not sure he got the memo that he wasn't in fact the subject of the photo.
The law catches up with onetime-public-profanity-spewer Cossar.
Spacey cowboys with doodleybops to prove it.
Pradeep, the Indian Space Cowboy, tries to look moderately interested in intergalactic cattle rustling. Note: the guys over his shoulder came up to me much later and asked me to explain the costumes. I graciously said something along the lines of "long story...", because honestly, it is.
Ok, now something I don't understand. I may not have been the one to take these pictures (it ... was a long night), but if I was, what's up with the damn finger, everyone?
Pradeep! Manners!
Anything he can do, she can do better.
Lesson learned: You can't take us anywhere.
Now wait, I know what you're thinking: Since when do I drink beer? I recently developed an affection for beer, which is weird, because I got through high school, college and broke post-college without ever getting into beer. Now, suddenly, when I almost have enough money to support my more costly drinking habits, I kinda start digging beer.
Anyway, it was the second anniversary of Bar Hop (and I tip my cowboy hat to my better half in Bar Hopping, Miss Katie Fee). The theme was cowboys, which can mean space cowboys, and the theme was cowboys because last year it was pirates and one can't be repeating oneself, am I right?
If there are any dogies about, Kyle looks well-prepared to tell them to get along. In the background, Jeremy molests a plastic cup.
Why I felt the need to photograph my Hefewizen is beyond me. Beer - the cause of and sometimes subject of life's strange photographs.
Rhinestone Cowboy Ali (you should see my belt buckle! And no, that's not a euphamism.) The guy in the background is kind of looking at the camera - I'm not sure he got the memo that he wasn't in fact the subject of the photo.
The law catches up with onetime-public-profanity-spewer Cossar.
Spacey cowboys with doodleybops to prove it.
Pradeep, the Indian Space Cowboy, tries to look moderately interested in intergalactic cattle rustling. Note: the guys over his shoulder came up to me much later and asked me to explain the costumes. I graciously said something along the lines of "long story...", because honestly, it is.
Ok, now something I don't understand. I may not have been the one to take these pictures (it ... was a long night), but if I was, what's up with the damn finger, everyone?
Pradeep! Manners!
Anything he can do, she can do better.
Lesson learned: You can't take us anywhere.