It's been raining in NYC for a month solid - no joke. There was an electrical storm and then the sun broke through the clouds at sunset and shined into my cab on the way to the pier. Then there were pink skies of perfectly orb like cotton balls of clouds. Then a four hour boat trip whose open bar closed after an hour. I don't want to be a drag but I was sort of over it.
Ooh look what was in front me me in line! If anything, going was worth it for some pictures of Amanda. Since everything you may wear from Patricia Field will fall apart, I was concerned that the boat wouldn't quite make it. We were comforted that there was an ample supply of trannies pumped and stuffed with silicone that we could definitely cling to as flotation devices if the damn thing sank!
This ass kissing pic is definitely the winner.
This made the trip worth it.
Later, while running to get the hell away from that awful boat, some cops on steed let me take a shot. I was JUST going to write an entry about a horse fantasy!
Can't take him anywhere.
Sorry Glen, but you snooze... you get photographed! I can't stand Mr.Black I don't think we should have gone. Nothing illustrated how barren and vacuous and hostile and sad going there was than my friend passed out all sweaty with a flickering glow wristband as Tobell VonCartier screeched "Happy Priiiiiide" in a cracked voice over a microphone with feedback while people pushed and sneered at each other in the crowd. Mr.Black. Don't go there it's horrid.
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