Last night while spending some quality time with some quality people at Pier street, I decided it would probably not be a bad idea to allow everyone to sharpie all over me. Fear not, I kept this activity confined to my 'core', aware of the fact that I would undoubtedly by questioned about any visible writing at work. A few minutes ago I noticed some writing on my hand, which reminded me of the canvas that is my abdomen. Virb and I were discussing rewriting notes and I turned to her and said something like "Speaking of writing, do you remember this?" I then proceeded to dramatically pull up my shirt, pulling it so far upward that I may have flashed Virb most of my boob. Awesome.

Pictures to come as available..not of my boob..of the graffiti.