It smells like burnt weed here, if you need a hint. Apparently, for some unshowered-looking dude about 20 yards from us, this amazing view is not an acceptable anti-drug.
I left a rather artistically-appealing trail of blood between my apartment and the CVS on Ventura, but I didn't take a picture because I'm pretty sure Jacob Bannon has probably already done that at some point. Now I know how all those morons on Chopped feel when they hack off a digit or two trying to mince banana leather or zebra liver or whatever obscure ingredient they're forced to cook.
Does that mean my upcoming year is going to involve an abundance of offensively over-sweetened wine coolers? Is that how that works? I think I was asleep by midnight. Also, you're welcome for not posting a picture of me being forced against my will to drink a lukewarm Smirnoff Ice.
Baby Eric, barely two months old, made his partying debut with a fury, though I think I'm more impressed with Dan's ability to rep three sports teams at the same time. I'm not sure what the hat is, but I just assume it's sportsy.