Viva La Frida!

My friend Brandt just turned 30 yesterday, so a bunch of us went to go eat yummy nouveau-Mexican food at Viva La Frida, which is usually where all the art geeks go; it is painted in many different colors and the walls are covered in Frida Kahlo-inspired pieces and Day of the Dead mosaics and dolls.

The only problem was that they were hosting some sort of awful play outside at the same time, so our conversations were punctuated by bloodcurdling screams for a while...

About twenty or so of us showed up and showered him with many fun things (I gave a double dvd set of The Crawling Eye/Invaders From Mars and a weird little book called Eccentric Lives, Peculiar Notions ("true tales of flat-earthers, head drillers, ufologists, frantic lovers, Welsh druids, finders of lost tribes & other obsessed individuals").

I'm a non-smoker, so I missed much of the exciting conversation from the other end of the table; all I managed to overhear was "gallery... nude... underpants... police... ha ha ha!"

My end of the table mainly discussed circus freaks, sculpture, diseases, the Knights Templar, and what to do if you find an unexplained dachsund in your kitchen.

then I went home and fell asleep. the end.