Despite the awesome that is Susannah McCorkle's "Water of March," and despite her unfortunate name; that update sucked a fat garlic pickle.
To make it up to you, here is an enormous photo post. No! Better than that, it's a nostalgic photo post as today is the one-year-anniversary of the day I moved out of my last college-type-housing arrangement (despite the fact that most of us had been long graduated).
There were five of us in "La Casita," which held lookout on top of the hill, Main st. Ann Arbor. These photos were taken the night of the shopping cart race in 2002, so break out your depression glass and Star Wars tv-trays, we're takin' it waaaayyyy back....
A lovely porch we did have, in plain view of much madness every day of the year. Note my awesome hair, "YES DRILL SERGEANT!" It's a wonder I wasn't wearing fatigues and talking about glocks and bears.
D. was my favorite roommate. He is also the gayest straight man I know (other than G.W... just a theory), and I still want a date with his redneck sister. You see, D., deep down is a redneck as well... trapped in a meterosexual body... and mind. Later that year he married my ex-girlfriend and together they moved (temporarily) to Howell, MI (the seat of the KKK) before exiting stage right to Coneccticuit, which I still can't spell.
L. and the Mormon are shown here in their costumes for the shopping cart race. L had welded a couple of shopping cards to an old adult tricycle frame. Later that evening, they would discover that the steering wasn't what we in the business call, "functional," as they careened into a parked police cruiser destroying their creation and any hope of completing life felony free.
The very same police cruiser in an attempt to clear out the streets post-race. As you can see, everyone is afraid of the police in Ann Arbor... except hippies, and apparently bipedal cows (oh, and kids with marine corps hairdos and video cameras).
I have no idea what is going on here. Probably something having to do with shopping carts and/or hippies.
A slightly more recent photo, this was taken in Traverse City, 2003. M., who has seen me naked, participates in the traditional post-race ironing-board-surfing-competition-spectacular-and-clam-bake. Note: this is after she slept in dog pee but a few seconds before she cut the tip off her baby toe. Am I good date? You better fuckin' believe it.
So what have we learned? If you're gonna surf an ironing board, wear shoes.
To make it up to you, here is an enormous photo post. No! Better than that, it's a nostalgic photo post as today is the one-year-anniversary of the day I moved out of my last college-type-housing arrangement (despite the fact that most of us had been long graduated).
There were five of us in "La Casita," which held lookout on top of the hill, Main st. Ann Arbor. These photos were taken the night of the shopping cart race in 2002, so break out your depression glass and Star Wars tv-trays, we're takin' it waaaayyyy back....
A lovely porch we did have, in plain view of much madness every day of the year. Note my awesome hair, "YES DRILL SERGEANT!" It's a wonder I wasn't wearing fatigues and talking about glocks and bears.
D. was my favorite roommate. He is also the gayest straight man I know (other than G.W... just a theory), and I still want a date with his redneck sister. You see, D., deep down is a redneck as well... trapped in a meterosexual body... and mind. Later that year he married my ex-girlfriend and together they moved (temporarily) to Howell, MI (the seat of the KKK) before exiting stage right to Coneccticuit, which I still can't spell.
L. and the Mormon are shown here in their costumes for the shopping cart race. L had welded a couple of shopping cards to an old adult tricycle frame. Later that evening, they would discover that the steering wasn't what we in the business call, "functional," as they careened into a parked police cruiser destroying their creation and any hope of completing life felony free.
The very same police cruiser in an attempt to clear out the streets post-race. As you can see, everyone is afraid of the police in Ann Arbor... except hippies, and apparently bipedal cows (oh, and kids with marine corps hairdos and video cameras).
I have no idea what is going on here. Probably something having to do with shopping carts and/or hippies.
A slightly more recent photo, this was taken in Traverse City, 2003. M., who has seen me naked, participates in the traditional post-race ironing-board-surfing-competition-spectacular-and-clam-bake. Note: this is after she slept in dog pee but a few seconds before she cut the tip off her baby toe. Am I good date? You better fuckin' believe it.
So what have we learned? If you're gonna surf an ironing board, wear shoes.
VIEW 25 of 50 COMMENTS
2. after seeing the pictures of your Los Angeles vacations, i have come to the conclusion that Max actually does get out sometimes, and his woman is both cheeky and fun...and addicted to coca cola.
i think next time we can step this party up a notch.