Douglas and I before we go out on the town to get horribly inebriated. We're only mildly inebriated at this point. I am attempting to envelop my chin with my neck and Douglas is irritatingly, forcefully reminding us that he used to model.

This is our table at Helen's, the really creepy gay bar we went to. I wish the wall behind Douglas & Ryan had turned out - it was covered with badly done paintings of famous drag queens. Ryan is looking deceptively sweet and Douglas sort of normal, for once.

Ryan insists that we had more than one round of vodka martinis, but one is sure all I remember. Note the bulky sweatshirt, which led to me being hit on by a bald gay man.

Ahem. Note that the sweatshirt has come off at this point. Note as well (I'm not sure how you could miss them) the incredibly red cheeks. This is why I don't wear makeup - I know it'll end up being totally redundant at some point in time. I don't specifically remember Douglas shoving money down the stripper's thong, but this picture is sort of alarming.