Yes, it's Tuesday night, and you know what that means! Naked people looking naked, and drunken people sounding ridiculous. Except for the second week running, the post-draw get-together was again a model of decorum. No spitting of food onto people's faces, no invitations to strangers to pose naked by someone who looks like he has to go door to door in his neighborhood telling folks he's a registered sex offender. No bizarre stories of Devon's you-know-what habits. Maybe it was the presence of Dorothy dressed like a Supreme Court nominee.

This here is a kid who is really good at painting quickly with acrylics that look like oils. No mean feat. Artmark says his name is Alex, but after two martinis, artmark doesn't remember his own name, let alone others', so I'll just call him The Kid for now. And good news: at the last minute, a story got passed around at a considerable volume about the time Tommy got his dick caught in a door. I would tell you more, but that seems to be the whole story, he got his dick caught in a door. So the evening wasn't a total loss.