You've still got a few weeks to do some planning. Also I've got the great kilt and such, but need some more great shirts and such, so I'm thinking you guys just might know where I can get some.

In our plan, you are shirtless.

What she said. Whoo! ND at the Vogue! Eyeliner! Kilts! Wheeeee!

Leather kilt, no shirt, AND eyeliner?

Oh dear. Maybe I should start working out.

Hey, ND--I don't suppose you'd be up for a nice quiet lunch with the "has baby and therefore no nightlife" contingent. Except that if it's a weekday I'll be bringing Annabel and can't guarantee the quiet part.

Of course!

Seattle-istas, ND -- and trust me, I *will* remind you -- you have to have many drinks in my honor the night ND gets in (June 23), because that's my birthday.

What? I *have* to drink more? Oh well, fine, I suppose I can do that.

What she said. Whoo! ND at the Vogue! Eyeliner! Kilts! Wheeeee!

I made Jilli go Wheeeeee!

Aimee, crooked tinsel halo, blacked eye, bedsheet "robe," go as a "fallen angel". Best 8+ mos costume I've ever seen.

ROCK ON!

I can put MM in a wife beater and boxers and make him all scruffy and drunk.

I love the fact that MM is really just an accessory for Aimee's costume.

Best 8+ mos costume I've ever seen.

The most spectacularly offensive one I know of is the friend who dressed as White Trash complete with wifebeater with one sleeve still attached for cigarette carton storage, raccoon eyes, madly teased hair, jelly shoes, and Micky's Big Mouth bottle (full of ginger ale) in hand, the rest of the six-pack clanking in her diaper bag. When anyone looked at her askance she'd snarl, "Hey, I'm drinking for two here!" and take another swig.

She even wore this to work. At a law office.

Okay, trailer trash beats out fallen angel for Most Inappropriate preggo costume. (waving at JZ)

The most spectacularly offensive one I know of is the friend who dressed as White Trash complete with wifebeater with one sleeve still attached for cigarette carton storage, raccoon eyes, madly teased hair, jelly shoes, and Micky's Big Mouth bottle (full of ginger ale) in hand, the rest of the six-pack clanking in her diaper bag. When anyone looked at her askance she'd snarl, "Hey, I'm drinking for two here!" and take another swig.

Most offensive in my memory was our friend Brian, the first last and only time he had the cojones to wear the teeshirt we brought him back from London.

He was dressed normally, if you happen to be a rock and roll roadie, complete with the Anvil case. Only difference was the black Adoph mustachio pasted on over his upper lip, and the teeshirt.

Hitler World Tour, 1939-1945. With the cities Hitler had invaded on the back, like a real road tour schedule. England and Russia - two countries where he never successfully invaded - were marked "cancelled."

I laughed like a loon, but man, was it horrible.

Ok, that's spectacular.

It really was. Brian is a relative short (for a guy - about 5-8) stocky Scot by ancestry, so he did the stomp very well indeed.

Unbelievably tasteless. And the teeshirt was our fault - procured in the punk market on the Kensington High Street.