Normally I like to credit the photographer when I post photos taken by others, but I have no idea who shot this one. Oh, and I look nice and cross-eyed, don't I. I think it was Christian who shot this. He's the one who got me hooked on "Heroes"! Anyway, there's Paul in his full-on Uncle Pauly regalia (after this photo was taken, he added two fake leis and possibly some spittle to his outfit; you can't see in this picture, but he is also wearing what I think are blue-blocker sunglasses) on the left; a lovely woman named Lorraine on the right (she's a scientist; she told me she can't sing or do anything "creative," but when it comes to visualizing the fourth dimension, she's all set. I think that right there qualifies as "creative"), and her slightly insane but very nice husband Carl. His shirt must involve some kind of scientific fourth dimension-related properties, because the shine of that fabric cannot be natural. I think I heard the X-Files theme music when I hugged him goodnight. They both have some sort of exotic accent. I think they're spies. Maybe it's plutonium.
If it appears that Paul is listening quite intently to something I'm saying, don't be fooled: the volume at which karaoke is sung (and the backing tracks) is practically supersonic: I couldn't hear him and I'm pretty sure he couldn't hear me. In the rear right of the photo is David, manning (and quite manfully!) the karaoke machine. This is a guy who used to do his quarterly reports at the bookstore using a pencil, a ruler, and a big sheet of graph paper!
As for my camouflage pants, well, all I can say is, Culver City isn't the paradise it was when I was growing up. And, just for the record, normally I prefer to wear the collar of that jacket up, but somehow it flopped down. Yes, I was channeling 1984 in the top part of my clothing that night; I have no defense. I just wish my shirt had a little alligator on it. Pretend, will ya?
By the way, as this is one of the few moments that my presence with these people is caught on film (digital, whatever); I'm quite glad that it was this moment, where I'm holding a pussy bottle of Corona, that was immortalized. Hey, I really wanted a Harp, believe me. And yes, I did tell the bartender: "Keep your lime for somebody else." And then I tipped him a buck.
I need to spend more time in bars, don't I.
In other news, during this crazy weekend, at some point I managed to get myself weighed, and I am pleased and proud as hell to announce that I? I have lost 10 pounds!
Let's hear it for a skinnier me!
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