You are currently browsing the monthly archive for October 2013.
…sent us these amazingly dapper drawings of our beasts for our birthdays.
Mr. Fabulous!
Meatshake!
Heisenberg!
We love ’em! Thanks again, Marla!
Those are almost as cool as this “autographed” Maury Povich glossy that Erik and Robyn gave us!
We have the best friends in the world,
…and, up until last week, she had never slept in it once.
That is, until KB had the bright idea of moving it from our guest room bed to a little side table next to our couch in the living room. During the day, the sun pours in through the window right on that spot, so it’s quickly become Meatshake’s favorite place to lounge when the sun’s up.
Today, I went in the kitchen to do the dishes. When I walked back into the living room, I found this:
That’s 80+ pounds of dog laying in a tiny cat bed on a tiny side table.
She’s incorrigible,
KB and I prefer the Mexican wrestling and burlesque of Lucha VaVOOM!
We saw a camera-shy cyclops and his cheetah-skinned girlfriend!
And a lot of cleavage!
The girls had a photo op with Dirty Sanchez (AFTER he shit his pants)!
Ol’ Sanchez and I got close, too!
KB flirted with a six-pack…
…while I found Jesus!
We saw a guy jump off the balcony and almost die!
Here’s another angle of that same shot (from LA Weekly)! If you look in the bottom left corner, you’ll see me (in my hat) taking the photo above! Meta!
The crowd was pleased!
Especially the ladies, who got to meet Hispanic Liberace!
And finally, KB and I ended our second anniversary with a traditional kiss!
What a wonderful way to end our second year together. Thanks to Michael and Andrea for an amazing evening… that ended with bacon-wrapped hot dogs.
Be sure to check out LA Weekly’s full slideshow of the evening here.
On to year three,
…which, depending if you go traditional or contemporary, is either cotton or china.
KB went contemporary and gave me my gift last night.
Mmmm… anniversary.
Two years… with duck sauce,
…from our good friends Erik and Robyn. (They’re on a gift-giving roll.)
The sign can also be flipped into this one, but…
…you know, that’s boring.
Fart/poop jokes are still funny at 37,
Last week, I made a huge decision: to stop buying physical copies of albums.
Now, I’m sure many of you have already done this, but I’ve always been a bit of a purist. I like the packaging of CDs, like adding them to my collection, and like having them lined up (yes, in alphabetical order) on a shelf. Or, more accurately, a shitload of shelves.
Over the past twenty years, I’ve accumulated probably… fuck, I don’t even know. Let’s just say a lot of CDs. Easily into the thousands. I have a really nice stereo (one of the only quality/expensive things I own), so listening to my music through iTunes on a computer just never cut it for me.
And then we bought an Apple TV, which changed everything. Having it meant I could stream my music library wirelessly through my stereo. That pretty much made my decision for me.
In 1993, at the age of 17, I bought my first CD.
It came in a longbox, for those of you old enough to remember.
I owned a few CDs before this one, but I had gotten them as gifts along with my first CD player, a gift I received the previous Christmas. (Sorry to say, Erik, but my true first CD was What Hits!? by Red Hot Chili Peppers.) But Reachin’ (A New Refutation of Time and Space) by Digable Planets was the first CD I spent my own money own.
Last week, after trading in some DVDs at Amoeba, I purchased what will be the last two CDs ever to be added to my shelf: Rjd2’s More Is Than Isn’t and Deltron 3030’s Event 2.
My collection of music will continue to grow, of course, but from this point on it will do so invisibly.
The end of an era,
…but I’m shocked that a brick-and-mortar store that only sells flip-flops and accessories (which also is misspelled in their sign) would go out of business.
Flip flopped,
The Blarg 