Here's the final pose of our opening number. Notice the sweaty black shirts. Notice the homos gasping for air through their smiles. Notice the traditional show choir pose. (Notice the absence of sparkle fingers, though. I have to draw the line somewhere.)
Here's the final pose of our other big dance number, which wasn't as exhausting as the opener, but it was really fun to dance. Plus we got to mount each other
My family sends a cake to my office every year on my birthday. This year Mom decided to run with a copywriter/editor theme, so there were misspelled words with little frosted-in corrections. And they were delishus.
A birthday dinner with a small group of friends. Though I think the world of everyone at the table, many of these guys hadn't met each other until last night. So it was fun to watch people from different parts of my life interact with each other.
Look directly under me in this picture. You'll see a piece of chocolate cake with a scoop of vanilla gelato next to it. Though it wasn't even mine, this cake was easily the all-time BEST chocolate cake I've ever eaten. And I consider myself to be a bit of an expert on all things cake—and not just because it rhymes with Jake. (Well, maybe just a little.) Seriously, though: You must NOT let another moment go by without tasting this cake yourselves. So get your hungry cake holes to Luciano's on Rush as soon as you can—and leave plenty of room for dessert. You'll want two.
Six happy homos, working our way carefully out of the restaurant so as not to disturb our blissfully full tummies. And so as not to let the 37-year-old fall and break a hip.