True to form, Louis and I hopped on our plane to LA with no hotel booked. The lovely Kate Hill was kind enought to suggest that we stay at the Downtown Standard. Shortly after checking in, she took a cab to the hotel and we hit the town.
After spending the afternoon collecting the sun's energy with my face, I decided to impress the ladies by releasing a red, wavy death-ray from my eyes.
Some nice gentleman sold us a giant, hand-rolled cigarette that made us feel all funny. The only thing I can figure is that we had some bizarre allergic reaction to the Danish tobacco.
After a day at the beach, we headed back to the couple's house (I've since forgotten all these peoples' names, doh!) to some dinner and hang out. Kate and I on their balcony. Their house was at the top of one of highest points of St. Thomas and overlooked the water and several other islands.
Here's me back on shore being laughed at by Kate 7 mintes later because I couldn't even naviage the boat out of the cove I was in. (There was a cross wind! A cross wind I tell you!).
I was so drunk I almost threw up on her stomach trying to choke down a buch of spray whipped cream mixed with whatever it was that they poured into her belly button. But hey, FREE DRINKS!
Eveything was running on schedule right up to the last leg of our trip to the airport when we realized that the Belt Parkway was closed. We ended up having to take some crazy ass detour and as a result we didn't arrive in time for our flight's check in. I showed up at the gate and the woman at the counter starts shaking her head and goes "Uh-uh." I was like "What do you mean 'Uh-uh'?"...then I had a heart attack. It turns out there was another flight and she hooked us up. Here's us with our newly issued tix.