And there was even a surprise visit from our good friend...shit, what's this guy's name again? I can't even remember. Seriously, if you read this David Forman, you're a dick. A big, not-returning-my-phone-calls dick. Last time this kid talked to me was to ask me to help him with his video Valentine's Day gift...which I spent like five hours on. Haven't heard a peep from him since. Dick, dick, dick. Holy Jesus Marymotherofgod,
what a dick. (I still love you, though. So for fuck's sake call
me if you see this, shitcock. Ok?)
On Wednesday Grant came back from London (he stayed behind to hang with his parents after our vacation ended, remember?) and was going to be in NYC for a few days (one of which we threw him a surprise party) before heading back to Los Angeles to do some final work oh his television pilot (nope, so not kidding). That night Fatty, (the rarely photographed) Michael Martin and myself all met up with Grant at the nearby Congee Village for some tasty dinner.
