Over the weekend, Sonoma County

I spent the last two days amid incredible natural beauty of Sonoma County with my friend Scott. Saturday morning we drove across the Golden Gate and up the 101 to Guerneville, a very friendly resort town on the Russian River.

The first image is from a hike through Armstrong State Park. Before trekking off into the woods, Scott and I had a couple sandwiches from the Safeway deli back in Guerneville. We also opened a bag of Tuscan Three Cheese Kettle chips, the latest of my new favorite flavors, as I've been making my way through the entire line of ridiculously yummy gourmet potato chips. It's up there with the Spicy Thai and Honey Dijon. I would've taken more pics in the woods, but my camera was not dealing well with the low-light under the thick Redwood canopy. Also, it was a rather relaxing walk that became more about contemplating and experiencing the natural beauty around us, rather than trying to capture images of it; most of the time Scott and I didn't really talk, but every now and then would make a comment about this or that tree or view we saw or sound we heard. The space of the forest had a very solemn effect, and encouraged the sort of introspective, whispered conversation appropriate to a cathedral.

The next day we drove back from Guerneville along the coast, pulling off at one of many amazing vistas of the Pacific Ocean; I can't quite remember the name, but I feel like it was something about a schoolhouse. Anyway, I snapped a few more photos before my camera went dead, including that last one of Scott wearing a fleece and looking out to sea which to me is very Nautica.

The last day of summer...

Just a few pics taken on Sunday and Sunday night. Despite not having pics to show it, I think you can imagine the progression of the evening's festivities.

A weekend in Grand Isle

All on a Mardi Gras Day!

Five days now I have been partying, taking breaks only to shower, change and (briefly) catch some sleep. As a result: my house smells like shit; there are piles of dirty laundry everywhere; and, I've got nothing to eat save a few limes, and nothing to drink but mixers. My beard has grown grizzly-ish because I have not purchased a new beard trimmer, having destroyed all the guards on my original. And I have not even bothered to shave properly, so I have a full-on throat beard beginning to come in as well. Basically, I am in a state. But I suppose after you've been partying, (I'm having such a wonderful time!), the Piper eventually must be paid.

I just ordered an ITALIAN ALL MEAT pizza from Balcony Bar. I emphasize because none of my friends would ever order an all meat pizza with me. It's a tricky business, arriving at a solid consensus when ordering a pizza. Usually I have to give in, because I tend to favor unhealthy toppings. I also tend to be a "traditionalist" in that the kinds of toppings I prefer would be typically found in NYC pizzerias circa '84 (pre-pineapple chunks, artichoke, white pizza, et al.). So, no, I'll pass on the BBQ Thai chicken pizza this time around, and satisfy my meaty cravings for pepperoni, bacon, sausage, meatball. Basically, I'm eating on my own. I have officially thrown in the towl on MG2007. While the majority of my friends are drinking their faces off on and around Bourbon Street, I sit at home watching back-to-back episodes of CSI: Crime Scene Investigators on SpikeTV.

Alright, it is just about time to run and pick up that pizza. And no I will NOT be mopping up the grease that collects in the pepperoni slices with napkins. That is too fucking high school girl for me. Like my reasoning for getting lots of unhealthy toppings in the first place, it's fucking pizza! If you want to eat healthy, make a salad; don't mess with my pizza! (But oh yeah, tomorrow begins Lent, so I'll be giving up all this bad stuff for the next 40 days. I mean, I'm not religious, or anything like that, I just need the break!)

A tale of two tacos

Rich informed me that this is a very famous strip club started in Tampa. It was about 2AM and he, Carl and I had stopped next door for some 4th meal at Taco Bell. Yes, we were thinking outside the bun, and decided to make a run for the border, etc., etc. Anyway, Mons Venus is a landmark. This is what Carl looks like "chowing down", a state he would never admit to realizing (mmm, grilled stuft burrito):

The Infamous Suncoast Resort

Late night, drunken desperation in downtown St. Pete drove us to stop in at the bizarre Suncoast Resort--a one-stop, gay mega-mulitplex that has a couple bars, a restaurant, a store and plenty of rooms to cruise. Needlesstosay, this is one of the scariest places I've ever been, but hey, it's vacation, and no one knows me around here anyway, right? Fortunately, we all came to our senses and left before there were any regretful moments.

New Year's in Ft. Lauderdale - Flashback

This is the view of the Atlantic Ocean from our hotel room.

The beach on a Sunday afternoon (December 31, 2006).

A good time was had by all.

Tuesday, December 26, 2006 a few friends gathered together to eat, drink and catch up. Some were meeting for the first time, their common link being that they knew me.

The food was incredible. I had some white truffle for the first time. We had an extremely competent Hungarian waitress. Carl chose the wine, the name of which I am forgetting at the moment; we had several bottles. After dinner, a few of us departed, and the rest headed over to the Monster, which turned out to be like entering a gay time warp back to 1976, but of course, hasn't it always been? I mean, it's the West Village after all, where I think homosexuality was like discovered.

I'm sorry I don't have any more obviously Gay/70s referenced pictures, but at this point of the night I was half in the bag, and on top of that had a major cold, so was additionally hopped up on the real-deal Sudafed (why bother even cooking it up to make Crystal Meth?), so needless to say, I wasn't taking many pictures. But here was a good one of my friends Ryan, John and Emily. Ryan and John, of course, live in Manhattan now, while Emily came down (for the night) from Boston. She totally fuckin' rocks.

The Gulf of Mexico on a Saturday afternoon.

The Gulf of Mexico on a Saturday afternoon.

John John

I swear. This boy cannot take a bad picture. It pisses me off, since I usually look like shit in candid pictures.