Hey, who are those aging gen-xers in that hip little tiki bar? Why it's Brady and Jen, together again, taking silly snapshots and drinking elaborate booze.
After some half-dozen attempts to get together over the past year we finally pulled it off. Seen here at Psycho Suzi's, the default location for infrequent outings these days; where they serve your spinach dip on those woven-wood plates from the sixties, and your Suffering Bastard in a special faux-coconut ceramic vessel that carries a hefty deposit. B-Man regaled me with stories from his trip to Costa Rica (where driving is strictly for the brave and the drunk). Then he tormented me with his camera phone until I made this dumb face, looking a little wasted already, even though I had to attend a Board meeting about 30 minutes later. You can't tell in the photo, but those tiny white polka dots on his golf shirt are actually itty-bitty skull-n-crossbones. Perfect for Suzi's. Thanks B.
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