also- please call me to help me upload our video-im kinda slow and stuff
left: me, when the party's over, on the floor of the smithsonian art gallery, mall dust on ma boots, six layers of clothing, and toboggan head.
okay guys- the truth is that we all had an incredibly touching time. so much so, that writing about it just minimizes the enormity of what we experienced... so there will be none of that here. if you want to see me cry about how touching it was, and show you my painstakingly made scrapbook, take me out for a beer. (also, there are about 700 more pics) otherwise, enjoy my lack of photography skills and my demon commentary. xoxo
two hip elderly ladies who will be able to
marry one another soon!
the entrance to the first level of hell (the metro was NOT MADE TO HOLD ALL YOU PEEPS!)
my crush on hopey embarrases
people, least of all myself
wild and wacky lesbian revelers outside msnbc's protective
(and strangely fingerprintless) glass shield, worshipping
what happens when your brain actually
freezes from standing in the arctic to catch
a glimpse of hopey... sad. keith still thinks that chic was trying to take him home.
robin and keith pretended to go to arlington, but sprinted across the potomac instead(posers) (this was the first indicia of the pending tour group uprising that was to come)
oh... thats our very own jumbotron! yippee! thank heavens for jumbotronic technology or else we just would have been a bunch of dumbasses standing in a field.
in an escher-esque moment, jon and i captured eternity by me taking a pic of him, taking a pic of me, taking a pic of him, ad nauseum; that eternity will have to be enjoyed by another as i have no idea whose camera i was holding.
as you can see here, we cannot tell the size of the hoards of unwashed masses of which we are a part-when i later saw the photos of the mall, i became afeared for my safety. but by then, i was already gone. also, there were no stinky people there. this may be why inaugurations are not in august.
these are a reminder of trucknutz. and of home.
take millions of pictures of each other in odd poses while they refuse to speak our native tongue. nashville would be horrified.
left: it was too cold for jon's camera to focus but i don't know how to delete this photo from the page.
this shot is behind us. only three hours left to wait! (out the porta potty)
here, i am trying to eat robin so that i may wear her carcass for warmth. (i learned this nifty trick from luke skywalker) you can see that she thought i was joking.
its all five am here, on the ride to DC, and we're all like forty FOUR- gangsta style and are all covered with obamatard stickers and sacrificing goats. also, i know it looks like i'm unpatriotic with that yellow tee over my underarmour, but, it DOES say "barack is my DJ"-- besides, i'm a naval veteran dammit!
note: robin is in a gang now, as made clear by her sportage of that bandanna (right behind jon's head)
food this bad only exists in maryland. our cult leader made us pretend that it was calamari because we paid her to trick us into being happy, and exert mind control over us.
look. barry smoked already. we didn't turn him "on" to it.
jon took all of these pics. jon thinks people that ride horses around dc are funny. i explained to him about our founding fathers/and horses.
more ne'er do wells, edging their way up 12th street to the mall... with all the chanting and the singing and the dancing and the very unprofessional behavior.
though we made many a sacrifice and sung many a hymn in its honor, the sun refused to make it over the capitol building any faster than scheduled... just looking at this picture makes my toes numb.
jon likes to take pictures of himself. this is probably his new myspace avatar. jon is a self proclaimed narcissistic bastard. i seconded the proclamation.
little did we know that this bus contained a cult leader who forced us to do her bidding, until the mutiny at the newseum.
penn quarter tavern: a place to cuddle and address frostbite issues
this is the potomac. of which we crossed. cuz we are all cool like george washington and stuff.
this is beau. he is our friend. he did not come with us. but we overcame the odds and found him anyway. he has now been lost to the hippie mecca of asheville, only to be seen at periodic trips to the orange peel.