This past weekend was decidingly sober compared to the weekend before where my good friends Amber and Brian visited from Seattle. That was a true shit show of epic proportions with a some puking, rallying, more drinking, too many shots consumed, too many asses pinched, shit talked, a now formed bluesy rock band with Amber and myself being the front women, food, more booze, some more food and not nearly enough sleep. So needless to say, I cut back this weekend on the booze…but not the music. The weekend really started on Thursday with the Black Keys and then Friday went to the de Young museum to watch Rupa and the April Fishes-a lovely little gypsy-esq band from San Francisco, then Arcade Fire on Sunday. This post is mostly just to get out some more puke, but of the photographic type from the hundreds of photos taken between then and now.
Pork Chops on top of grits at Hibiscus(veg heads really don't know what they're missing)
Bri attempts to be dandy and use his celly while riding
Rupa and the April Fishes
Me Da thought we looked good together...."we're not dating dad, sorry"
Me Da thought we looked good together...."we're not dating dad, sorry"
chicken and waffles in Oakland-happy bday Bri
And with that, please enjoy this lovely photo of a woman durning rush hour on the Bart, picking her foot, while the blonde next to her is probably holding back vomit and texting her friend "my god, the smell of onion is overwhelming Becky!"
And with that, please enjoy this lovely photo of a woman durning rush hour on the Bart, picking her foot, while the blonde next to her is probably holding back vomit and texting her friend "my god, the smell of onion is overwhelming Becky!"
You're welcome
-M-
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