Something about impending liver failure must make you take good pictures. Last night I flew back from Palm Springs, where we spent the weekend hoarding the last slivers of Mike Cassady’s bachelorhood. It was lovely. The Birthday Boys were there, affable and fun as always. Micky McKeon was there and is the subject of this photo series:
Which I think we can agree captures something about the human spirit. We also watched Jack Hanna ad lib a 90-minute monologue about death and charmed hell out of some strippers. It was an enormously successful weekend—such a successful weekend, in fact, that I must devote the rest of today to paying work and self-care. I know it’s Wednesday. Being friends with Mike Cassady isn’t easy. Okay, it’s incredibly easy, but it’s also fun. He’s going to make a great husband and father, and I am going to make a big pot of coffee.