Have I ever made a post about strictly pictures before? I don't think I have.

Be prepared for a whole lot of bad photography... and some decent ones too.

After spending what felt like a KABILLION YEARS in this one store with Dana looking for clothes [I had no problem with helping Dana find clothes of course, but seriously. A Kabillion years.] I looked directly across the walkway of the mall and found... Bakers! It was wonderful. There, Celeste tried on the worlds most comfy heels and I put on the worlds most fuzzy red hat. Smexy.




We went into H&M and tried on a bunch of clothes that didn't fit at all because Ian neglected to tell anyone that you had to size up because Europeans are all anorexic and shit. Whatever. The dress technically fit, but my titties were too big. I don't know how to feel about that, really.



Santa didn't need any of this shit. He wasn't even there. Don't leave the workshop unattended, son!



Okay, but for seriously? The ugliest hat I have ever placed my eyes upon. I couldn't NOT take a picture of them. Really, [blogspot consumer], would you have forgiven me if I never made you look at this picture? Would you?!





....Hi, Chelsea. Isn't she pretty? She so pretty.



Not to say that I'm not pretty or anything, but in all honesty, I just wanted a picture wearing the greatest shirt of all time. The band isn't even good anymore. Who cares? Look at that shirt!


Hey, Babeh! I'm telling you. If Allen slips up, I'm taking her. Celeste will be MY woman. No lie. I'll learn to like the cooch... ew. Well, maybe not. But the point is I love the mess out of her.


Okay then, Ladies and Dogs, this is Marquis. He's my friend, and a rather good one at that. In 50 years, when he's dead from... whatever he's going to die from in the future, I'm going to be really happy that he was my friend.