Okay, I admit that I feel sort of like a tool for including a "and here are pictures of my friends" section. I'd thought I'd left most of that personal homepage detritrus behind, but it comes down to this: I've gotten quite a few complimentary e|mails about the pictures of me I'd posted and even a few dates because of them. So maybe some interestingly perverse pictures of my friends could help them get dates. And honestly now, take a good look to the left and tell me if there's anybody that needs a date more desperately than the contents of this picture? (Well, besides the slinky. It's probably doing pretty well for itself.) As for the first picture, here we have Jeff and the mysterious slinky-groined man. (Wouldn't it have been a better show if he'd kept saying "It wasn't me, it was the slinky-groined man"?) The bed itself would belong to Rich, and we were defiling it after a party. But we'll get to Rich eventually. Jeff is the tallest damn mexican leprechaun you've ever seen. Take my word for it. As of this writing, they're both available. So if any of this is somehow turning any of you on (for some reason), I can probably get you the hook up. Just so you know. Not that I'd ever pimp out any of my friends. Except for when I would. Which is always.

Continuing on. No gathering of my friends would be complete without Troll. (REAL Name: Troll T. Trull) Even though Troll is not so much a friend of mine as he is my symbiote, housemate, and hetereosexual life-partner. But one thing he's definately not is "a person." See that stuff he's eating? One thing that stuff's definately not is "food." Or, as Lowtax once said "a table full of prop food which doesn't look even remotely like anything anybody reasonably intelligent would consume." So naturally, we both ate some of it. The nasty green goo (on this particular occasion) was pistaccio instant pudding mix with about half as much milk as you're supposed to use to make it edible. I like to tell people "I don't need children, I have a troll." Below is a pretty good example of why I say that. That's Troll with two of his favorite things, denim and a pig. The pig's name is Lief. If the denim has a name, he hasn't told me what it is, and I probably don't want to know. If I had to guess though, I'd say "Lucille."

To your left you'll see a picture of Kip pioneering what would later be known as the Kip School of Drinking. In his right hand is a fuzzy navel that most people would consider pretty strong. He's about to use it as a chaser for the shot of vodka in his other hand. You see, Kip has a lot more matter than any one person really needs, so it takes a lot (of alcohol, momentum, porn, whatever) to affect him. Kip is one of my friends from ISU, and we have this whole love/hate thing going on, in as much as we hate each other. Oh yeah, and he crushes everything that I love. Something like that.

I just don't know. Sorry. We were at Rich's apartment (he's the sexy one who's roots are showing) and there were wires and there were our crotches so naturally we were playing with them. Then suddenly Troll started biting and this is the only picture I can show you, the rest aren't pretty. Rich, by the way, has graduated and moved out to Virginia, which is either a part of Europe or entirely made up. Those of you paying attention to details and able to somehow take your eyes off our pants may notice the Lubriderm bottle suspiciously near the computer. I'll reiterate that this is Rich's room, so draw whatever conclusions you must involving him. I'm not trying to claim that I don't do that sort of thing, especially not near my computer. I just don't want you thinking I use Lubriderm for it. Also, if you're ever lucky enough to run into Rich be sure to greet him by squealing "ReeeeeeeATCH!" It's vital.

This group photo was taken just after the Norman house lip-sync contest. It consists of Arthur, Kelly, Eggie, ShannonT, myself, and Kip. The tall blond with the great rack is Arthur (aka Artos, King of the Britains), we molested him horribly later that night. The hayseed with the goofy hat is Eggie, who mistakenly believes he has some other name. The lady in black is Kelly, (Second Kelly) about whom no stories are short enough to be relayed here. In front of her, with pigtails, is ShannonT. She was the first person to tell me I looked like Nuno Bentencourt. For months she called me Nuno because she couldn't remember my name, and I called her The Girl Who Keeps Calling Me Nuno, because I couldn't remember hers.

Here's a picture from Jhonen Vasquez's "Roadkill" signing tour. From left to right it's Rob, Jhonen, Dave, and myself. Dave was filming the fun, and supposedly there was going to be a mini-documentary. I never found out if it got made or not. I don't really know why Rob was there, I guess just emotional support for the long drives and shit. He's best known for being the guy who screwed a chicken in the Meanwhile of issue #3. He seemed to resent that a little. Hey, it could be worse. You could screw chickens and not get any credit for it at all. Um, no Jhonen Vasquez isn't technically one of my "Friends" like you may think from the title of this gallery. But sometimes in my dreams I pretend he is.