re-naming party

I promised an update on the re-naming party beyond a picture of me eating the GPS reciever. Here's some more pictures from the event. It was wicked fun and we were really honored that people came by to ring in this new boat of ours.


After the crap Auguary weather, it was nice to have a beautiful September evening.


We overtook our finger pier so apologies to Ian, our neighbor to the west sharing this finger pier. I promise we're not always like this.




Ken and Erin pondering our complete lack of boom.


Like all of our parties, Christy MC'd and I just poured champagne everywhere like a howler monkey flinging poo.


Boat warming gifts from friends. "Cardboard flavored sesame seed horse feed cookies?? You shouldn't have. Really. No really. You really shouldn't have."


Poor Alison, she's always the island of lucidity in a sea of liquored fools.


Fisher measuring out the exact amount of mixer to go with his rum.


Not only was I calling in an airstrike with our GPS, I was also dialing 867-5309. "Hello?" [snicker] "Is Jenny there?" [howls of laughter]


Fisher working on his Blue Steele look. My friend, there's a lot more to life than being really, really, ridiculously good looking.


Gotta move on. Gotta move on. Gotta move on. Won't you take me to Funkytown?


Paul and Erin from Windshadow, a wicked cool Fuji 32, clearly regretting ever accepting this invitation.


Oh that's right. I can open a beer with my armpits. Who's thirsty??


KEN: "I'll eat this for a dollar."




Ken's stripping career comes crashing to a mercifully early halt as his hammy lets go like a busted guitar string.


The next morning. That lump on the settee is Ken.


The cockpit was not pretty the next morning. No, not pretty at all.

Thanks to Ben and Gina for most of these pictures. Especially the ridiculously embarrassing ones of me. No really. You shouldn't have.

The rest of the pics are here.