well damn... this was it, the weekend of theaptSUPERfriend cindy "why walk when you can" gallop's annual birthday extravaganza. and as much as the aforementioned superlative is usually grossly misused by the vast majority of the reporters of lackluster events, there is no other word to indeed describe this one, and you do know by now how i measure my words... a night of no-so-quiet luxurious depravity was had, graciously supported by the lovely people at hendrick's gin, under the memoried guise of this past century's last and, dare i say only, master of such ambitious design, mr. helmut newton. the mot d'ordre for the evening, and early morning, was simply to dress as one's ultimate helmut newton fantasy... inasmuch as some didn't seem to have bothered to even read the damned invitation we at the apartment so slaved over to produce, others thankfully and shockingly went all the way may. (extra points given for latter reference)

unfortunately, until the official pics arrive at my desk, i will only have a couple of blurryCam shots to share with you. below was i, borrowing from helmut's medical fetish period which was horribly uncomfortable for the first hour but which, after experiencing the level of pity affection i was getting from worried party-goers, soon became more than tolerable.



indeed, my stock answer to the question of how i had hurt myself quickly became short and sweet: skiing. gstaad. which i thought, perhaps foolishly, would get me kissed, or at least fondled, by some form of life meandering around the black apartment that night. alas, as the kidz say, no-go. but of course, the queen of the night knows how to please, herself primarily and in many ways. firstly by hiring a topless grand army of beautiful members of the male sex, branded for the ...
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