I feel dumb posting pics on this blog because I don't know hang out with any poets except Schiff and Twemlow, and I'm sure they would get tired of me constantly snapping photos of them, as adorable as they are.
So here's what I did this weekend. It is non-poetic.
I bought new shoes at Shoe Pavilion, shortly after devouring an "Oregon Smoky" sausage at Good Dog Bad Dog.
Waiting for the bus to take me to the Sapphire Hotel.
Here's Beckner, waiting with me.
At the Sapphire, we had brie. And some fruit.
We also had some cheap-ass beers.
Back at the Beckner-Covert pad, Tom and Marc pose for a heartwarming portrait.
At midnight, we went to Claudia's, home of the best chicken wings on the planet, or at least, in SE Portland. Claudia's decided to close the kitchen at midnight. I was very angry. I got over it. Khara, the designated driver, decided to drink a Mike's Hard Lemonade. Apparently, it wasn't hard enough to impair her motor functions.
Tom and I discussed world politics. And crawfish boils.
Beckner is drunk. We had to go home. (Actually, the mean waitress at Claudia's practically pushed us out the door.)
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