A lightning storm in Portland

We've been seeing flashes and hearing rumblings. Appropriate for a 101-degree day and, I would argue, necessary.

As Adam and I walked up to toast Dan and Moonrise, Dan called out: "Oh, God."

Oh, God indeed. Adam, that drunk fuck, spilled the beans about Dan being a smoker. In front of his mother, who until that point was unaware of the fact. Hell of a toast, boy. They won't be forgetting that any time soon.