"Well I guess it would be nice / If I could touch your body / You know not everybody / Has got a body like you," I sang to David as he smiled and coyly rubbed his groin.
I decided to sing "Faith" by George Michael. This is me striking my very authentic George Michael Stance. (P.S. - check out my little bum. You could fit that shit in a teacup.)
Yeah, so those are pretty much the only good pics I have from the Mermaid Parade this year. I told you it wasn't nearly as good as last year's. Later that evening, a bunch of us headed out to Greenpoint to check out a loftparty in my old building. Dave and I represent on the Cripp tip...
Before I had to go back to the conference on Friday morning, Sarah took me over to a restaurant called "Bennett's Smut n' Eggs." This is a breakfast-oriented diner that has TVs all over the place playing hardcore pornography.
Thelma & Louis (hehe) on the run. (Look at Louis in the background...see that serious face he's making? Yeah, that's because instead of enjoying the ride, he was responding to emails via his Blackberry messenger.)
After spending the afternoon collecting the sun's energy with my face, I decided to impress the ladies by releasing a red, wavy death-ray from my eyes.
After coming to the realization that we weren't going to die we decided we should probably start working on getting out the elevator. We pushed the "HELP" button and were promptly connected to repair company that maintains our elevator. The man we spoke to told us that he'd dispatched a mechanic and that he'd be there in 45-60 minutes. (45 minutes! Faaack! Keep in mind, we'd gotten in the elevator to go up to work because we both had to pee!). Further complicating matters, our building's front door is locked so the dispatch guy tells us we're going to have to get in touch with someone who can come down and let the elevator repair guy into our building.
Twan, Nicole,Eileen and me are all clearly repping on the Do tip. (By the way note Eileen's normal color here so you can compare it to when she's flamingo pink two pics later)
See this girl in the white tank-top? We saw her a few times throughout the day...we kept noticing her because she had really these big, hard, visible nipples jutting through here little, white tanktop. So after we saw her for like the third time, I bet Grant that I could take a better "sneaky picture" of her nipples than he could without getting caught. (Hey, I know it's a stupid game, but I had just been beaten at videogame boxing and the "strong man contest" by a guy who I had 20lbs on, I was desperate, okay!) Here's Grant's picture of her nipples. Not bad, right?
Not being able to handle the fact that Grant beat me at videogame boxing, I insisted that we both do the strong man game (I figured I was a shoe-in for an easy victory...I mean come on, look at those rippling forearms, right?)
Hey look! That's me in the background! Which means I'm not the person responsible for this amazing display of maturity. (I am however, the immature bastard who put it up on the web because it's funny as hell.)
Grant was getting sentimental watching all the little kids get swung around by one of the Dads there. Hating to see him down, I was happy to indulge him in a little trip down memory lane.
Tookie totally tricked Grant into letting her have the front seat both ways by telling him that the backseat makes her feel carsick. HAHAHAHA! I can't believe he fell for that one. That's like the oldest "make you sit in the backseat" trick in the book. See what happens when you grow up without an older sibling?
...only because this photo is the greatest. Look at who's large and in charge at the back of the caboose. Frances in the muthafucking hizzouse, you know what I'm sayin?
So I'm all out on the dance floor cutting some rug and suddenly I notice the dancefloor part like the Red Sea and this sauc,y little minx saunters her way over to me and says, "Say-hey motherfucker, we gonna dance or what?"
Dave G (The Ladies' Choice) has got to get with the program! He's all in the background making his "Party Guy Face" when we clearly told him that it was a "Blue Steel" moment.
Roxbury, our hometown, had nothing going on. So we hopped in the car and drove to Morristown, NJ where we promply struck RHS Alum paydirt! Emily, Scott Morrison (class of '94, baby), his girlfriend whose name I don't know, and me.
Melinda, the other half of Cake, puckers up. (If that picture of me looks familiar, it may be because you recognize it from the "shit eating grin" entry in the dictionary. Jesus.)
Yo, not to toot my own horn or anything, but you gotsta to admit: that's one ugly motherfucking face. Not only have I managed to make my chin completely disappear, I get style points for the gross way my neck has like eight rows of skin bunching up (Ew!).
Score: 8 out of 10
75% of people in this picture are from Succasunna, NJ. Jamie Rubin, Jess Kain, and myself all represent on the Roxbury H.S. tip. While Matty peeks over our Succasunna-hailing shoulders (Jess had just flown in from San Diego, CA that night and came right to our digs to get her drink on.)
Hannah and I have one thing in common: get three drinks in either of us and you're probably gonna start to see some flexing going on. Which invaribly gives way to...
