The book party was off to a bit of a slow start so Grant, Emma and I went across the street to grab a quick bite to eat at Stingy Lulu's. (Oh, and ever since that night at the Hole, Grant's found that he really likes to kick the night off with a piping mug of "hot cock.")
Stingy Lulu's has these cross-dressing lounge singers that jump all over the place and harrass the shit outta all the people trying to eat. But yo, check out her face - is that some scary Planet of the Apes shit or what?
In this pic I was trying to capture both Grant and Tara making faces of that twat in the white headband (you think the headband's bad, you should've seen how long his "fashion mullet" was in the back), but my camera went off too soon.
So after we leave, who do we see sitting on the sidewalk just a few feet from the broken door slumped against the building next to a pile of his own vomit? (Suddenly his little, matching denin Osh-Gosh-esque outfit seemed apropo). That's right, it's the evil door kicker! Regardless of the rough shape he was in, he was still a good enough sport to wipe the puke from his chin and coldlamp for this supremely awesome pic.
See this broken door? Remember the guy that tried to pry my mouth open? He got really drunk and rowdy and while I was in the bathroom peeing, I guess he thought it would be funny to start kicking the door. He got a little over-zealous (or maybe "freaked the fuck out" would be more accurate) and instead kicked the door completely off the hinges. That's right - I'm standing in the the 4'x4' bathroom peeing when suddenly the door explodes in pieces. (Thank god my dick was already out - otherwise I would've pissed my pants). So I zip up and come out screaming "What the fuck is wrong with you?" and he just shrugged and looked embarrassed.
BLAMO! We have full on tounge-in-mouth action (and I managed to get an even better shot of Timmy's overly-manicured, faux chin-line). And check out homeboy there smiling in the background. His enjoyment of the situation should've served as a forewarning...keep that guy in mind - he'll be back with a vengeance in a few...
Also, since Grant's been trying to play down this kiss like it wasn't a big deal (and brother, who can blame him?), I'd like to point something out: the flash on my camera takes approximately 20 seconds to recharge. Look at that first pic...think about my camera needing 20 whole seconds to recharge...then look at the second kiss. Got the willies yet?)
Eric and I totally set Grant up on this one: I waited with the camera ready and Eric pretending that he had to tell Grant something and then when Grant leaned in: BLAMO! (or at least that's the story that I'm supposed to tell if you know what I'm saying).
Remember that guy making faces at Grant in this photo at our Holiday Party? Well he's been identified! His name is Timmy and as soon as Grant met him he kept trying to get Timmy back by making funny faces behind his back, but Timmy kept catching him.
One night when we were out like two years ago, Grant busted out his impressoin of "Molly Ringwald in every 80's movie" dance-move and cracked us all up. But ever since then, everytime he tries to dance, he inadvertently ends up doing the same Molly Ringwald dance - it just happens and he can't seem to stop. For once, the total and complete gayness that said dance move conjures, worked in his favor. You go, girlfriend!
Is there anything worse than getting so drunk that you can only incoherrently babble? Apparently, yes. It's when your friends pretend to engage you in conversation just so they can make fun of how drunk you are to the camera.
Ok, these first few pics of Grant aren't from the party - but they are with celelbrities and this is as good a place as any to put them. Here's Grant with Gaz Coombes from Supergrass.
Grant tries to get some stranger into the true DLR (that's David Lee Roth) spirit of things by doing a toe-touch jump in the beginning of his performance of Van Halen's "Panama."
After I was done, a few talentless hacks sang unmemorible crap before Grant got called up for Bowie's "Life on Mars" which he proceeded to render with such heartfelt authenthicity that it actually brought tears to our eyes.
In one of the most blantant acts of shameless sycophancy I've seen in a long while, Grant kicked off the night by singing "Lola" by The Kinks (Lola also being the name of the co-emcee of the evening).
So there's an ironing board resting on top of a 2 foot pile of snow and in the most obvious set-up ever (I mean, like one not even your slow, eight year old cousin would fall for), David goes to Grant, "Hey, I bet you can't surf on that ironing board." As soon as Grant stands on it, David pushes him into the snow.
On Wednesday, Grant, Dave and I went to see Viola's band, Stasis (pronounced "Schtay-schis"), play at Don Hill's. Here's the G-man with the lovely Viola (pronouced "Vee-oh-la" not "Walla.")
For those of you who don't live here, Crazy Pomodoro Guy is our loving nickname for a guy named Jack. He stands right outside our office on the corner of Broadway and Spring all day holding a sign that advertises Pomodoro Pizza. He fucking rules.
Saturday night Grant and I stayed in watching TV at my house until like 1am (losers) and then finally got our asses in gear to go meet Seth (who had just come down from Boston) and a bunch of other people at Antarctica. (L to R: Seth, Big Daddy, Grant [looking tres Billyburg in his gay-ass, cocked, camo hat] and me).
Bwa-hahahaha! Here's Grant surreptitiously giving Alex the ol' "Get a Load of This Guy" face for the cam. (Bonus points to the guy over Grant's right shoulder laying down the double-ironic "Who does this guy think he is making fun of that other guy" face. Ha!)
I retaliated with this drawing that pretty much upset Grant for the rest of the night. ("I don't really look like that, do I? Dude! C'mon! Seriously, I don't look like that, right?")
Grant and I headed over to their "Cookies N' Creme-themed" party at Suede. Here's Grant (pulling his Pomodoro Pizza Guy face) and myself with Bday girl, Sarah.
Proprietor and emcee "Owen the Brummie" gives madd props where madd props is due with a double index finger hail. This was the exact moment where the Arlene Grocery foundations were thoroughly shaken for the first of four times on that fateful evening.
One dude in the front row was so overcome by my re-voicing of 'Maidens' tale of the subjugation of the indigenous North American tribes, he actually reached out with a view to tweak my trouser schnauzer. Possibly to check if I was for real.
You know, life's funny: One minute you're riding high at a fancy-smancy club in the West Village and dancing with a hot chick. And then just 10 minutes later...
Grant was sweating this chick for awhile, so after he finished his ridicu-normous-sized drink he mustered up enough liquid courage to go up and start dancing with her.
...er, sort of. Upon closer examination I realized that he while he was holding a cigarette and even putting it in his mouth and puffing purposely, he wasn't inhaling any of the smoke. When I teased him, he goes "I've never smoked a cigarette in my life."
On Saturday, while browsing for discounted Canadian porn, we found out about Grant's former life as a model for the "Mr. Jack: Hungy, Hard Sucking, Mouth! (complete with multi-variable vibration unit). Check that shit out, the resemblance is uncanny.
....a night out on the town! Seth being a pimped-ass high roller, he called in to have a limo chaffeur our asses around all night. Nothing says class like a white-stretch with neon underrunners, baby.
Six cheap Canadian beers later, Grant somehow figured out he could really do a DLR-style (David Lee Roth) jumpkick!!! Check out this shit I managed to capture mid-air.
In Montreal, we met up with the three other guys (who drove in from Boston). Seth (the guy next to me), Chef (not pictured because he's being blocked by Fatty's head) and the uber-scary (and therefore edited out of most of the pictures) Ethan (gee, can you figure out which guy is the sociopath in the pic...c'mon, look carefully.).
Here's the New York Five, coldlamping in front of our pimpin' rented Blazer. From Left: Grant, Dave "Fatty" Fateman, Colin "Big Daddy" Gentle and Frank "Seven Layer" Picarazzi.
Seven Layer put on a fancy shirt and wasn't about to get clam sauce all over it...check him shamelessly sporting the fucking Guinea Bib. Molto bello, fuckhead! (PS - Bonus Points to Grant for an amazing "get a load of this fuggin' guy" face).
