My Album

A number of images, guaranteed to keep me from ever seeking elected office

By me, of me, for you.

This oil-on-canvas masterpiece captures me in a moment of repose at my parents' house. Elongation of the subjects and the darkened background suggest El Greco, but the compositional quirk of depicting the knees to the exclusion of the top of the head is a tell-tale sign that the artist was my mother. You can read whatever impending action you want into the way that Rikki is looking at Blizzard, but suffice it to say, that cat will no longer sit in a chair with me.

Here, I help preside over the BFH3 "Jingle Balls" ceremony (the hidden object garnering my rapt attention is a clipboard). How do I manage to stay so tan in December? Hint: Stay far away from the flash. For more of my salon secrets, check out this month's issue of Cosmo. Why is there such a high incidence of pictures with me, dogs, and Christmas trees?!

Obviously, the night of a full moon. No Christmas tree, but the "dog" theme has proliferated beyond all reason.

Finally, no dogs or Christmas trees. This is on the dinner cruise after a conference (an academic conference, if you can believe it) in Vancouver. I'll withhold the other subjects' names to protect the innocent.

A meeting of the Mismanagement of the Indianapolis hashers. I (second from the left) attended solely in a heckling capacity. Why that weird look on my face? Months later, I don't know.
More incriminating pictures to appear as new ones are taken...