Thanks to all who came out to "The Trouble With Romance" screening Saturday at the VC Filmfest. It consists of four romantic comedy stories, and everybody seemed to have a different favorite. Mine, of course, was the third tale, "Dumped." Watching Rog sob while taking a shit on Emily's photo reminded me of the philosophical paradox of absolute nothingness, and I found my spiritual being traveling through the darkest corners of the cosmos. I did find it amusing that quite a few of our friends felt uncomfortable viewing the scenes where Rog and Emily passionately kissed. For them it felt borderline incestuous. Thank God Geney Boy edited out the bukkake scene.
For the first time since Argentina, I drank three nights in a row, starting with Thursday night - which is when this pic was taken (Those are Daniel's party shades, btw. As you can see, I lack the manwhore charisma to have a pair of my own). The fact that I'm even making a note of this in this entry is surprising, but intoxication has begun to lose a little bit of its glorious magic in my old age. For instance, instead of drunkenly groping female breasts like in the good ol' days, I've moved on to awkwardly groping man chi-chi's as seen in the next two disturbing photos ...
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