Jesus was a Mormon Pt. 2 (or Quintana has Balls)

As my buddy Ryan would say, "Yeah... Well."

Yeah, well indeed. A lot of life happened between then and now. Chloe is still on the mend, and we both are looking forward to our next trip back to the SupperClub. I promised pictures, so will simply let them do the talking.

Some preface:
SupperClub is a nightclub/bed. I don't know how other to put it. Imagine a bordello designed by the masters at IKEA. There's about 200 feet of bed on a balcony, where all the patrons cozy up to each other on white sheets. It is a nice icebreaker.

Below is the kitchen, and a large dance floor, as well as more bed and overflow tables. Everyone is hot. There's plenty of airflow. It's difficult to be as drunk as we were and not keep the Black Cherry Bombs from spilling on to our cushy accommodations. I think i was a very good boy and managed to not bite anyone who wasn't in our party. Oop, I've been reminded that i did take a nip at the butt of one of Stacy Kiebler's friends (see below).

Some identities have been obscured for the sake of... obscuring identities. Enjoy.

This young lady was our server. She tried to climb into my "to go" box.

An opera performance, lauded by Chloe. This performer greeted
everyone wearing black duct tape over her mouth.

Me, enjoying myself.

This fella was our busboy.


The ladies sharing our bed. The second one from the right
looked like Stacy Kiebler.I refused to go home with her,
even after her repeated, increasingly aggressive
requests. Too skinny. I bit the butt on the right.

Our host(ess) for the evening.


Our host(ess) with much fewer pieces of apparel.

Sir Spam-a-Lot rallying the crowd.

The dance floor. No one moved like the D.

Our friends, old and new, without whom we'd
have just been watching Lebowski at home.