Grant had just broken up with his girlfriend Erica (for the 8th time, but really, who's counting, right?) and wanted to stay home and mope. Instead, Vin and I managed to convince him to go to our friend Kusum's rollerdisco brithday party at the Roxy. After a little bit of Vin-nuzzlin' failed to cheer him up...
...and the original Jetsetera line up took the stage for the first time in over three years for a four-way karaoke re-enactment of the seminal Van Halen song, "Hot For Teacher." (In order to really appreciate that last caption, you have to hear me say it in my Casey Kasem voice.)
Saturday night Grant made reservations for the Über-fancy restaurant, Suba. The food was so pretty, that our entries all merritted us all posing with them.
The pics of Grant and Fatty's entrees were blurry (not to mention not all that intersting) so why don't we move onto dessert. Shall we? Splendid! Here's Grant with his Crema de Limon Y Queso.
Fuck. I've had my new camera for a few months now and I still can't time the shutter right to capture Grant's now famous DLR kicks. Argh. (But this pic is still noteworthy because I did manage to capture The Ladies' Choice in the background mimicking Grant). After the birthday girl left, we all decided to head north to check out the newly opened club (that used to be SPA), Plaid.
Here's us teasing Colin about his nicknamed being changed from "Big Daddy" to "P.Dinky." (The entire story will be explained in a diary entry that probably won't be allowed to be realeased until the year 2030 *sigh*).
...and then stopped by Amy Werner's bday party over at some patio bar on 2nd Ave. Chris, Grant, Vin, Chris Rubino and Dave the Ladies' Choice. (The birthday girl's not pictured in any of these...doh.)
...we hit the boardwalk for some more greasy food (between the three of us we ate 3 corndogs, a jumbo Italian sausage, a shish kebab, an order of fries and a FUNNEL CAKE.) The only thing that hurt more than my stomach was my wallet.
Earlier in the evening before we left that Mati Hari place, Morgan, the promoter, pulled me aside and invited me to a late night party that was being thrown by P.Diddy and Ashton Kutcher (sp?)...so we rounded up some rowdies and headed uptown to Dorsia to see if we could get some pics of us coldlamping with Demi.
After a warmup drink or three there, we headed over to The Hole and met up with a buncha other people. Charlene, Grant, Tara and (special guest stars from Teendrama) Dennis Crowley and Grellan
On Monday, Grant signed a contract to, um...actually I'm not allowed to tell you about it. Sorry. (UPDATE: Well, now it's November 9th, 2008 and as I'm going back through these old entries, I can now safely tell you it was a contract for write a book that eventually became Working Stiff: The Misadventures of an Accidental Sexpert.
Grant and I headed to Privelege (which is a strip club) for the release
of Ian Spiegelman's first book, "Everyone's
Burning." Here's Grant with Bess. (Who was so drunk that after
30 minutes of conversation she asks me: "So, where are you from?"
Me: "New Jersey." Bess: "No, I mean originally." Me: "Ummm, New Jersey." Bess: "Well then where's your accent from?" Me: "Ummmm. New Jersey?" Bess: "Then why do you have a British accent?" Me: "I don't." Bess: "Yes, you do."
The subsequent argument that followed this exchange was way too incoherent
to recount in full here - suffice it to say I ended up having to call
on several "personal witnesses" to testify on my behalf that I was not,
in fact, British.
See that lady in the background? She wanted more coffee - but instead of calling the waitress over, she held up her coffee cup in the air with her arm fully extended for like an entire minute. I fumbled to get the camera out, but by the time I managed to turn the flash off and snap a pic, the waitress had arrived to take care of her.
This is the best photo ever. It might take you a sec to realize what's going on here, but go ahead and give it a good look. We got back from the bar and found Glen and Zabrina asleep on the couch. Thinking back to last year we immediately knew what had to be done. We were struggling so hard to keep from laughing (note Grant covering his mouth), but right as the camera went off, a giggle escaped from Grant and Glen opened his eyes. Hahahaha.
Joanna, Grant's former Nerve intern (and founder of BurningAngel) came down to hang out. She recently started dancing at a Jersey noodie club and is making so much money that after three weeks she was able to buy a new car (which she paid for with a garbage full of money that she brought with her to the dealership). You probably won't realize that I'm not kidding until you see me in three weeks after I'm back from my breast augmentation surgery.
Later Saturday night we all headed over to "Jimi" (which, by the way, is the stupidest name for a bar ever), right next to the Stony Pony, to grab a drink or two before last call.
Josh, Grant and myself with Jess and her "two friends." (Dennis Crowley said it best in a recent email: "this may be one of the best photos ever snapped with a digicam.")
Just in case you're wondering why Vin's making that face it's because Grant kept holding his arm up next to Vin's and being like "Look, I'm darker than you! I'm supposed to be white and you're supposed to be the brown one, but I'm browner! Me!"
...this time he made sure to wear pants that can only be described as "ass-a-liscous!" Grant Stoddard kneels down so he can appreciate it in all its full glory.
Hey! Remember The Ass? (If not, you must take immediately take a time out from this entry to go back and read about him. Just click here, don't worry, it'll open into another window for you.)
All caught up? Well then you're probably thinking to yourself "Wow Brian, how in the world did The Ass (who's real name is Stevie, I'd like to add) end up at your party?" I'm glad you asked.
Most of you know that I work for an online dating company. One of the people who reviews the profiles when they're created came across Stevie's profile and emailed it to my attention. I emailed Stevie through the personals and sent him a link the aforementioned diary entry (when I dragged him out of Lombardi's to photograph his ass). He thought the pics were hilarious so I invited him to the party. And he came! AND..
Special Guest Commentary from Grant Stoddard via IM: "As we learned early on, the main perk of bartending is having total control of the juke box *and* full license to play air guitar along to the metal anthems you select."
(Major bonus points taken away from whoever took this pic and managed to almost crop me completely out while I'm making what looks like it could've been the best "metal face" I've ever pulled. Curse you!)
Grant proudly displays his very own drink creation, The SweetTart.
Brett, intially impressed, asked him:
"What's in the SweetTart?" Grant: "A shot of Amaretto mixed with sour mix." Brett:
"Oh. Actually, that's called an Amaretto Sour." Grant (picking up a random bottle and adding a splash): "There! Now it's a SweetTart."
John Craven, Grant and Fatty. (Fatty pulls that face everytime a camera comes out, he just can't help it. He was telling us that when his brother's wedding pics came back he got yelled at because he was doing that face in every single pic he was in. hahaha).
If you look carefully at Grant's cheeks, you'll see the joke facial hair he grew special for night. (Yeah, it's a little patchy, I know. But if you squint a bit it looks filled in).
Grant's (who's from the UK and shouldn't have a problem with Irish accents) struggles to decipher this guy's drink order without getting a punch in the eye.
Haha. This is me and Grant with the staff at the Homestyle Cafe Diner. He and I have eaten lunch there a couple days a week for years and we've all become friends over the years.
Moving Day! The crew headed uptown to Fatty's apartment to help him move out (because good friends always help their friends move). After all the heavy lifting was done, Frank serenaded us on the uke'.
Okay - these next pics are from a bunch of different days. This was taken when I went over to help Grant paint his new apartment that he got from our friend Mark Bibbins.
So in the weeks prior to Grant moving in, we all to endure endless hours of his "plans for the aparment." (He even tricked me into going to Sherman Williams with him so he could get "paint samples." Who does that?) Anyway, he kept going on and on about this "wide stripe, skinny stripe" painting motif that he had in mind. I was totally skeptical (and I also had no idea what he was talking about).
..."Triple Bull Bonus" (This was in the next round where we had moved on up north to Canada and were hunting Moose Bulls instead of Deer Bucks, ya heard?)
Talk about a bad way to kick off a new month, Jesus! Grant bought himself this jacket for $5 at a thrift store. He was convinced it was cool right up until about my 3rd straight minute of laughing and pointing.
The jacket may have quickly been retired, but the "ElectroGrantClash-2k3" theme song it spawned lives on. (Make sure you ask me to sing it next time you see me).
I got a new camera and the shutter timing is different than my old one - so when I went to snap a pic of Grant doing his now famous DLR Splitkick (David Lee Roth), the camera went off early and I instead captured him making this awesome face.
(PS - This is a true story: One time, Grant and I were down at the Jersey Shore and on the way back home, we stopped at a noody bar in Tom's River called Delilah's Den. We were sitting at the bar/stage chatting. One of the dancers came over and struck up a conversation with Grant. She asked where he lived, and after he told her "Chinatown, in Manhattan." She replied, "Oh, yeah. I guess I can kind of see that in your eyes." Seriously, true story.)
So we walk all the way from Chinatown over to South Street (which took like 45 minutes). We get there and it's mobbed and there's not much to do - so we decide that we'll get one of those famous Phily cheesesteaks...only to find the place and discover there's a 50-60 minute wait. (By the way, check out Grant with his little canvas tote-bag. I think he stole that from my 7th grade Social Studies teacher).
We ended up eating across that street at some god-awful, faux, Tex-Mex place where the bill was like $65 for the three of us to eat lunch. Lunch! Sixty-five bones! Bah!
At 1:17am Grant and Michael quietly gathered their things and announced that they were going to leave together and "you know, split a cab back to Brooklyn, because we sort of, um, live near each other."
Grant was getting antsy singing in English, so we made friends with a Chinatown local who brought Grant up on stage to sing a Mandarin tune called "Crystal." Check out the guy's expression as we listens to Grant pretend to sing in Chinese.