And Then. . .

We took the boys home, safely.

And because these kind of pictures make us cool:










Did it work?

Somehow we ended up in Pella for Gabe's 22nd birthday party.
Got some evil stares and glares as usual.
Cheers!

Happy 5th of July!

They are not friends.








183/365.


"KYLE?!?!?!"












Jellyfish in the sky. Whoa.








Besties! Fo' Life.




Come and knock on our door, we'll be waiting for you.







Time to party!

The Fourth Our Way.

We make meals, and dance while shit's a cookin'.
We eat ice cream on the swing set, and listen to Bright Eyes come from the open window.
Comedy routines on the swings.
This is how we celebrate our independence from Britain.

























"I just wanted to be your housewife
All i wanted was to be your housewife
I'll iron your clothes
I'll shine your shoes
I'll make your bed
And cook your food
I'll never cheat
I'll be the best girl you'd ever meet
And for a diamond ring
I'll do these kinds of things."
-CocoRosie, By Your Side.

Really, who wouldn't want to marry us?

You Leave Her Here All Day. . .

179/365.

I Want To See The World. . .

So I can take its picture.

All Good Musicians Must Move On.

I promise I'm not crazy, and I won't be digging through your trash.
But, I have been listening to a lot of Bright Eyes/Conor Oberst lately. Duh.
So let's take a trip down memory lane.




I was like, "OMG his skin!" Ha, ha.




12/15/2006.
10:17 p.m.
I loved this picture.

And I thought THAT was the best night ever. It's still up there though.
So long, Bright Eyes.