There were a slew of birthdays in the past week. These are from Lina's dinner, which was on a Tuesday. I'm not a big fan of eating on couches. Everybody ends up slouching, and I'm all about good posture (Of course I'm slouching in my ergonomic chair as I write this). Plus eating off a coffee table makes me feel like I'm eating at home - at least at home I can watch a Bizarre Foods re-run in my underwear.
One of the birthday girl's friends painted a sign with her name on it, then put a chain on it so she could wear it around her neck. I wonder if he expected her to wear it around outside the birthday party too. I'm not sure how I'd respond to somebody wearing a painted wooden sign with their name around their neck. I'd probably throw a shiny object on the ground to distract them, then run as fast as I could.
The event photographer kept getting upset that she couldn't get candid shots of us, so Paul and I tried to oblige. I look like I'm about to check somebody's prostate, and Paul looks like playing an invisible banjo is filling him with disdain.
My candid poses all seemed to be angry in nature, for some reason. Here I'm accusing somebody of being a whore.
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