August 01, 2003

Boys Weekend in Newport Part Three: Saturday Night

With Seth having arrived, our group was complete. We headed out for dinner and a night of trouble. Little did the denizens of Newport know of what was in store for them (Heck, Montreal's still recovering from our last trip).

colin, fatty, frank, seth — We headed out to some restaurant on the water of dinner and some drinks. Yay, drinks!

fatty, grant — Fatty and Grant (showing off his, ahem, killer tan).

frank, me — Frank (also sporting a little, um, color) and me.

colin, frank, seth — After dinner, we once again failed miserably to integrate with the fellow Newportians...

fatty — ...so we headed to some other outdoor bar nextdoor and hit paydirt! Ladies and gentleman, I present to you, the four cutest girls in Newport! Check out Fatty leaning in with the "Fatty laugh" in the background.

colin, fatty, frank — So we chatted them up for a while, found out that they were down on vacation from Braintree, Mass (and Fatty made some more "Fatty" faces).

fatty — See?

After a little while, we tired of simply making silly faces with the girls and decided to up the ante...

colin, fatty, frank, grant, me — After months of getting people to willingly pose with my balls, it was time to try something new: getting unsuspecting people to unknowingly pose with my balls. I discreetly whipped out my bag, and grabbed one of our new friends for a picture. I handed off the cam to Seth who totally shit the bed by not managing to get my balls in the pic. Doh! The rest of the guys in the pic (Check out Grant and Franks' faces) were laughing so hard that the girl in the black shirt was totally confused...

fatty, grant, me — She was like "Why are you all laughing?" and started to walk away. I managed to convice her that we were just happy to meet such cute girls and Seth got his act together in time to snap this pic.

colin, grant, me — A few minutes later, we convinced them to take more pics ("Taking pics is fun, right?") and Grant got in on the action.

Okay, I think it's safe to say that we were all pretty liquored up. At some point during the next few hours, every guy on the trip managed to get their luggage out...which leads us to the very first ikeepadairy.com contest!

The Scrotum Scramble! (aka -

Object: Be the first person to correctly match all of the Playas above with the correct set of corresponding Ballz and you'll win a night out drinking with the crew. (Unless you're a dude. Then you win a date with Grant). Think you've got serious bag-matching skillz? Then email me your entry! (brianbattjer AT gmail).

The Playas' Ballz

grant, me — Look at the color of Grant's face. I swear to God I didn't alter the contrast or anything. I wish I had the audio file of him a few hours earlier all saying "It's cloudy, dude! You don't need to wear lotion when it's cloudy out!"

frank — And here's another clutch shot of Frank's "tan." These guys are putting the "melon" in "melanoma."`

colin, fatty, frank, me — As "last call" drew nearer, we bid the lovely ladies a fond farewell and hit the road to head over to some other bar where Seth and Frank knew the owner (If you look in the background behind my arm you can see Seth showing off the can of beer he snuck out of the bar by strategically hiding it in his asscrack. Sweet.)

As soon as we arrived at the new bar, we were greeted with seven shots of Jagermeister? (Me about the bartender: "Seth I thought you said this guy was your friend?") Can I get a capital "T" for "trouble?"

Thank you.

Put them up and...

...put them down. Hoo-ah. *Blech* *Gurgle* *Sputter* Check out Jagermeister suddenly transforming me into Dobby from Harry Potter. Jesus.

The resemblance is uncanny, right?

colin — Here's Big Daddy doing a physical interpretation of what Jagermeister feels like going down.

me, seth — Seth was kind enough to offer me a sip of his water as a chaser. Only after a I swallowed did I realize his "water" was actually a glass of vodka with just a little bit of ice. A real prince among men, I tell ya.

grant, me — Um, yeah. (Check out Grant in the background censoring himself. Heheh.)

grant, me, seth — So somewhere around this time, I started spitting on my friends. Well, more like spitting on my hand and throwing it at them. I don't know, it seemed funny at the time. Needless to say, people weren't happy with me. After realizing that I'd been an asshole, I apologized and Seth opened his arms for a hug. Little did I know, it was a set up: while I was hugging Seth, Grant snuck up behind me and poured his beer down my shirt (while Fatty, privy to the plan, waited in the wings with the camera. Bastards).

colin, frank, seth — Then the bartender, Frank, Colin and Seth sang the theme song to "The Jeffersons" (movin' on up...) in four-part harmony.

frank — When Frank started dancing on the bar, we knew it was time to head home.

frank, me, seth — We summoned Bert, our driver, and piled into the van for the big 3 mile trip home (bonus points to Frank for picking his nose).

But we weren't ready to go home just yet...we stopped at 7Eleven to stock up on treats. Aw yeah, Bert.

grant — Grant (who claims he wasn't drunk at all) took a little nappy-nap on the 4 minute drive home.

frank — Thumbs up from Bert. (This guy was awesome, earlier in the night when he drove us out we learned that he had graduated from MIT with a degree in theoretical math but lost his job, and was driving the bus on the weekends to earn a little extra money).

colin, fatty, frank, grant, me, seth — This is hands down my favorite pic of the night. Bert N' Tha Boyz.

frank, grant, seth — Back at the hotel...

grant — ...rowdiness ensued. Here's Grant trying to escape from Seth's clutches.

Me eating the ice cream I got at 7 Eleven. Look at my fucking wonky eyes! This was the drunkest I'd been in years. Oooof.

fatty — But man oh, man. My drunk-as-fuck face has got nothing on Fatty's drunk face. Check out his eyes! Hahahaha.