While most of the gang got crunk at Chez Maltliquorman on Saturday, I threw on a halter top and Tony Stewart fanny pack for an evening on the St. Charles riverfront. I took down a cherry snocone and a few Colts 45, danced to Doobies covers with mustachioed 60-something men, and passed out before the fireworks even started. Pretty fucking solid.
Some pictoral highlights:
Rocking classic light-wash jorts. That right hand just tossed an empty can of Bud Select.
The first product from Al Hrabosky's home T-shirt factory.
A St. Charles wankster. Stay classy, chief.
And finally, the best concession stand in the park. Don't miss the excellent shirt selections.
Let's do this again next year, America!