this weekend was city stages’ 20th anniversary and while the line-up was quite impressive i quickly realized why i do not go every year. hot, sticky frat boys. and not hot as in “hawt”, rather hot as in “would you please get the hell off me, you’re ax body spray deodorant stopped working nine hours ago”.

joe bonamassa performing at the miller lite stage. yeah, i don’t know who he is either.

stoned cobra at the engel homegrown stage. they’re name should’ve been “canadian tuxedo”.

i don’t know what is sexier: the guy’s pirates of the caribbean hat or the fact that his best friend is homeless dan.

bree and bird who is totally heterosexual. he’ll tell you so too.

not in any relation to city stages we bought a new coverlet and sheets this weekend. our other comforter was red velvet and was like a blanket of ick. i probably would have slept better in an oven.

cooper and i played with mr. seal, her stuffed blue seal from new orleans. mr. seal has had a hard life. both his head and his tail have been ripped open and stuffing falls out of him if you even look at him wrong. cooper’s love/hate relationship with stuffed animals has always been interesting. especially if they have squeakers. her first task is to rip open one orifice and find the cause of the squeaking. once it’s only means of protesting have been substantially chewed she finishes off said animal by violently shaking every piece of poly-blend fiber out of it’s body until nothing remains but an empty carcass of felt and buttons.