|
My best
friend Scott and two of my other high school friends came into New York
for the night to celebrate Scott's 27th birthday (come along and watch
as they proceed to mow a swatch of drunken Jersey-mayhem through the
streets).
Yeah, here
you go - we haven't even left my block yet and already Scott's got his
shirt unbuttoned trying to see if it's any easier to hail a cab while
looking like a gay leather enthusiast.
We met up with Sarah Landy and company at POP.
Me and the birthday boy!
Grant and Tim drink tequila (while Sarah does her impression of a gopher
peeking out of a hole).
You may remember previous entries here that meticulously documented
the effects
of tequila on human social interaction, here's another one for the
record. One shot later, Grant's revisting Sarah's
boobies.
Scott, Gran, Sarah and Tim's eye.
I licked Sarah's cheek and she licked...
...the inside of Grant's mouth!
After POP, we walked down to the East Village and then the Lower East
Side and pretty much had a drink in each bar we saw.
Some random bar, four hours later.
It's just not a night out with the fellas from EnJay until somebody
pees
all over something that belongs to somebody else.
Four drinks later and (many hours later) and Grant finds himself locking
lips with yet another "beaut." (The only thing funnier than
this pic is Grant's reaction when I showed it to him days later...he
didn't even remember being at this bar, nevermind the girl.).
We closed out the night at Vig Bar, a few blocks from my house. Here's
John Christie and Grant laughing hysterically while they watch Tim...
...THROW UP! If you look closely, you can see I've just barely managed
to capture the puke leaving his mouth *shudder*.
Okay, in fairness to Tim I'm including this picture of his ass-stitches.
Earlier in the week, he'd had a cyst removed from his tailbone and he
was popping Vicadin prescribed to him for the pain. Vicadin and 15 drinks
= Vomit. (by the way, look at those ghetto-ass stitches. It looks like
a mis-laced sneaker for fuck's sake. Ew.
I call this photo "Birthday Boy, 5:42am." If you listen very
carefully while looking at this picture, you can actually hear him groaning.
Meanwhile, Tim busied himself purging his body.
At some point in the early morning, my roommate's cat walked into the
living room with something in his mouth. Which closer investigation
revealed to be this severed mouse head! UGH! Here's Scott laughing hysterically
and posing with it.
Grant had already gone to bed, so we decided to bumrush his room (he
was staying in my roommates room) and wake him up by screaming and throwing
the severed mouse head in bed with him. Here he is caught by the flash
mid-scream...
Remember when you were a kid, sitting in 2nd grade wondering what you'd
be like when you were finally "all growed up?" Hehehee. Happy
27th, baby.
We eventually got to sleep around 7am. These crazy fucks came into my
room at like 9:15 and woke me up because it was "time to get some
eggs." Scott was in good shape until he got a whiff of the extra
large plate of bacon I ordered and got really nauseous.
So while we ate breakfast, he went outside and caught some sleep at
the park. (I tried to get a picture of him asleep with his head between
his legs looking like a homeless Stone Cold Steve Austin, but he heard
us laughing and looked up just in time).
|