Why are there 14 photos of bathrooms on my phone?

This was taken in my friends’ bathroom; they’ve since moved. This was featured in our MPLS.TV roundup of the best signage of 2010.

This was taken in my bathroom, after the Freaky Deeky live show at Patrick’s Cabaret. If I was wondering whether photos taken that night of my bare ass as I ran across the stage wearing only a Snuggie would ultimately turn up on Facebook, the answer would prove to be yes.

No idea. I obscured the name and address of the recipient, because we have 18 mutual friends on Facebook.

This was taken in a park in Edina. I was amused by the bastardization of the Obama campaign’s graphic design; nothing says “yes we can” like a portable bathroom.

This is the bathroom at the New Ulm funeral home where my grandmother’s wake was held. I would like to hear the proprietor explain why a funeral home bathroom needs a tchotchke shelf with a little statue of a dog digging under it. What, exactly, is he supposed to have found under there?

I think this was at a party in Northeast. Guess I just liked those ducks.

No idea whose bathroom this is, but that’s some crazy bike helmet hair. And that’s the jacket that was later stolen from backstage at First Ave while the Freaky Deeky cast performed at Bassgasm 3. I guess if you’re going to have your jacket stolen, that’s a pretty rock star way to do it.

I want to say this little still life was in the bathroom at Love Power. R.I.P.

This is my friend’s toilet, which I find very Dalíesque. Anyone? Anyone?!

This elegantly tucked shower curtain is in the Northfield hotel room where the Tangential staff later spooned Das Racist.

This is a friend’s bathroom. I was amused by this nicely composed trio of manly bathroom essentials. I’m also amused by men’s hair care products that are given names meant to convince you that using them won’t make you metrosexual.

Another self-portrait with makeup, for my Vita.mn post about performing at Bassgasm 3.

This was not a Vita.mn post, but it certainly should have been. I was walking down Franklin Avenue at about 1:30 AM when I ran into my friend, who was taking a break from a party to have a cigarette. He invited me to the party, and the next thing I knew I was watching vintage gay porn (think cowboys in fields) and a guy was insisting that I change shirts. After I tweeted this photo from the party, my sister replied, “Way too much information last night.”