Who's That Handsome Devil?
On the odd chance that I don't handle the flight to Vegas with dignity and get stinkin' drunk even before I check in, it might help if someone already there could recognize me by sight. You know, "Hey, isn't that big fat hamhock staggering around over there Mean Gene?" And then I get rescued and pointed in the right direction.
Or at least it might help to finally have a face to match with the name. I already know what many of the blogger cognoscenti look like, but I've remained so far in the shadows. No more!
Jeez, I wish I was photogenic. I actually look much better standing up:
**update** These pictures were graciously uploaded by Otis so they could be viewed by everyone. Well, let's drop the word "graciously", as you'll understand when you see this one:
Whatta bastard. Already I plan my elaborate revenge.
Ok, as I wrote before, that's happy Gene. This is Mean Gene:
Been awhile since I've had my picture taken (obviously). Wow, do I need to lose weight. I mean, I know I do, but sometimes it takes a picture to act as a figurative kick to the junk. The fact that I feel incapacitated after I play volleyball (as I feel right now) of course clued me in to the fact that more exercise and a better diet should be on my immediate agenda, but, ugh, that first picture is pretty ghastly. Or maybe its the juxtoposition of my picture with the belle Isabelle that makes me queasy. Excuse me while I do some push-ups.