Hello again friends.

Since my last blog and its ensuing shit rain left me at a loss in the area of how to surpass its success, I've decided to present you with this light-hearted gem while I work on my next real installation.

A couple of nights ago my girlfriend and I had a housewarming party at our new crib here in the dark underbelly of superficially perfect Whistler, British Columbia. Some friends came, some drinks were consumed, and some were consumed by their drinks. My friend John, who most of you know only as the mysterious J.D. May (Full-time student, part-time alcoholic, and general Newschoolers Oracle Extraordinaire.) was one of the latter. Generally J.D.'s alcohol tolerance is far in excess of any mere mortal, but his superpowers were thwarted when he decided that doing shots of 50/50 absinthe and dish detergent was a good idea. Right? Right. Needless to say what went down did come up, along with a gang of partially digested appetizers. Who had to clean that shit up out of the formerly spectacular shag carpeting? Yours truly. My friend Josh had his camera on hand to document the aftermath for all of you.

The potion that felled a giant.

I had to soak my Ninthward bandanna in my girl's Chanel just to get this close.

This arrangement only lasted as long as it took for somebody to need the bathroom. Let me tell you, moving over 200 pounds of uncooperative dead weight is not easy.

After I did all I could with paper towels, it was off to the 24hr Food Plus for some Extra Strength Febreeze. (I shouldn't need a disclaimer, but I know I do. This photo is a joke. I'm not a gangster, I'm actually smiling under there, and we all know real Gs don't smile, especially when they smell like another man's puke. So save the stupid comments. Or I'll shoot you.)

Finally, a breath of fresh air.

I figured that if I was going to let him pass out in peace, he might as well not stink up my damn house.

That notion vanished, as the children moved in for the kill.

Cream Team Supreme

See you soon.