I was going through a bunch of old photos, on the computer and in boxes, and ran across this one of me and my friend Bo, one of my favorite people in the entire world, from when we still worked at the bookstore. It's probably 8 years old. I like how young we both look, and how skinny I look, even though my hair is flat, I needed to groom my eyebrows (and some lipgloss wouldn't have hurt either), and those glasses suck. I did get a lot of good wear out of that sweater. I wonder what happened to it?I've probably posted this picture before; I suspect that I just like looking at it.
And hey, give him a break, the guy's from West Virginia. He didn't have braces. He's lucky to have teeth at all.*
*This is not a dig at West Virginia, which I'm sure is a fine place with excellent dental care; this is merely a lame example of the way he and I talk to each other. Believe me this is nowhere near our real conversations, where nothing is sacred and neither one of us emerges unscathed. The funny thing is, I love talking like that with this guy, and would put up with it from nobody else. So don't even think about it, mister.
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