This is Abaya. Even with our friend Matty spinning records there, two cute girls accompanying us, and the promise of free booze inside, I still had to practically drag Josh kicking and screaming through the door. ˆ josh ˆ karen marsala ˆ

Actually, he just made me say that because he's afraid his "real" indy friends will disown him if they see these pics. ˆ josh ˆ karen landes ˆ karen marsala ˆ me ˆ

My, my, this free champagne is smooooooth. ˆ josh ˆ karen landes ˆ

K. Landes, K. Marsala and B. Battjer. ˆ karen landes ˆ karen marsala ˆ me ˆ

The "wank" factor was getting to be a little much over at Abaya so we crossed the street south and headed over to Baramundi (where the wank-factor was just plain off the charts). ˆ josh ˆ karen landes ˆ karen marsala ˆ

Well, you don't say! ˆ josh ˆ karen marsala ˆ me ˆ

Spitroast, y'all. ˆ josh ˆ karen marsala ˆ me ˆ best ˆ shock ˆ

The meat in a Karenwich. ˆ josh ˆ karen landes ˆ karen marsala ˆ

Karen learns the hard way: Even fancy toeless boots are still susceptible to snagging on a shitty piece of toilet paper. HA! ˆ karen marsala ˆ high heels ˆ toilet paper ˆ

Back in Brooklyn, we headed over to The Abbey. ˆ josh ˆ karen landes ˆ best ˆ lick ˆ