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.
Here's Chris (doing his impression of Robin Williams) and me giving mad props to our deep-friend cinamonny-doughnut thingy that was filled with chocolate and so kicked all the other desserts' palsy asses.
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*).
Here's a pic of me trying to put my face in between Sarah's bizzoobies and nuzzle them in time to the music. Needless to say, she resisted. Shortly after this pic, we wrapped up the dance party and headed back downtown to the Hole to try to catch last call (at this point it was 8:30am for Charlene, who was still on London time, so she and Grant headed home).
My buddy Morgan is a fancy club promoter and he invited us to the private opening of some fancy new club called Manna Hatta (I think) on the corner of Bowery and 3rd St (the place that has the bright, blue neon "Restaurant" sign). Here's me and Charlene.
If any of you fellas out there are scratching your heads about us always going to The Hole (which is primarily a gay bar); here's your answer: the drinks are cheaper than the women! Here's me with karaoke superstar, Natalka.
Sunday morning we got up early and set out on our mission: move the goddamned shed. Mom was complaining that the placement of the new shed was blocking her view of the water from the porch and wanted it moved to that it was parallel to the house (instead of perpendicular). Here's me manning the jack.
...who shit the bed on the next toss by throwing short to my dad (the balloon exploded on his foot). Check me out laughing at him while he gives my brother the ol' stink eye.
Me and dad prepping for the big 'tater race. (The object is to cross the finish line first. If your pototo falls off your spoon, you're immediately disqualified.)
Vegas sucks. Everything there is designed to disorient you so that you get stuck in places and spend more money. Seriously, our plan to "pop in and check out" the Caesar's mall complex-thingy turned into a 3 1/2 hour "quest for the exit." At least I got to be Lego-Tutankhamen, that sorta made up for it.
After our delicious, Rain-Foresty dinner digested a bit (which took longer than usual in the 110°F heat) we went over to New York, NY (it's a hotel)...
Right after Louis and I posed with this gondolier in the background, Louis took me on a gondola ride. He sang me a song and then after we got back on land took me up to his room and made sweet, sweet love to me while...oh, wait! What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas! Shhhhh!
Can I tell you that "Dumb and Dumberer" is the worst movie I have ever seen in my entire life. THE WORST. We left the theater after just 30 minutes...it was utterly unwatchable. Blech
and rode the roller coaster! (The sign said no cameras, but my camera's really small so I thought I'd be able to sneak it on. The coaster started off and figuring I was safe, I snapped this pic - but one of the guys that worked there was on to me and was running along side the coaster, and totally snagged me and nabbed my camera).
I spent most of Monday in meetings for work. Tara spend most of Monday getting incredibly sunburnt at the hotel pool. Ouchie. After meeting up, we set out on the strip to explore some more.
Here's Tara and me at the Taqueria. Why bother with Italy when you can kill two birds with one stone and eat "athentic" Mexican food right next to the canals of Venice? Vegas, baby. Vegas. They've got it all figured out.
Amy and I met up in Manhattan and took the NR out to Park Slope. Turns out that Southpaw, the venue PJ's gig was at, was right around the corner from the apartment Amy and I were roomies at when I first moved to NYC in January of 2000. Here's us posing with the freaky Zulu Lady statue right outside of our former subway sto
Brett was the big winner. Me and my dad both caught NOTHING! NADA! ZIP! ZILCH! (Actually, my dad at least caught two fucked-up fish that just didn't count in the contest so he threw them back. I was the only one that didn't catch a god-damned thing. Bah.) Arrrrgh, matey! Better luck next time!
I met up with Colin and his friend Jen at Pianos. And then we went to Nolita Tavern for some karaoke action. I love how both Colin and Fatty are always making faces behind their date's backs. Hahaha).
Out of the blue on Monday I got an email that my cousin Kristie was going to be in town on business (she works at an ad agency in Arizona(?). So we headed over to Fez to some, uh, what else? Karaoke! Here's me and Kristi
Christ, was there anybody there that doesn't have a webpage? Hi, we're huge losers. From L to R: Jonathan "Little Brother of Dennis" Crowley (orangeride.com), Dens back there in the green (another gratuitous teendrama.com plug) and Randy (hifiny.com). I'm not sure who that guy is back there in the upper left, but I'll betcha dollars to doughnuts he's at least got a text-blog.
Walking home from an uneventful Monday night out, I stopped by Bowery Ballroom (2 blocks from my house) to check out the roster list of upcoming shows. When I got there I realized that Ted Leo and the Pharmacists were playing that night! Not only were there tix available, Ted was going on in 15 minutes. I walked in, caught a rad show, and ran into Ric Ocasek on the way out! Holy shit, Just what I needed! (ba-dum-dum-CHA! Thank you. I'll be here all week! Try the meatloaf. And remember, please tip your waitress.)
Yay, Roxbury High School! Wooooo! After this pic was snapped, the three of us headed down to Iggy's Keltic Lounge (where Grant and I guest bartended) in the LES and met up with Bev's boyfriend Matt (for some reason I didn't take any pics of the four of us. Me not taking pictures? Unheard of!)
Right when we walked into Jimi, I heard someone yell my name. I was like, I'm in fucking Asbury Park, NJ...who the fuck knows my name? I turn around to see Max, Chris Silk and Christina Alessi, three people I went to high school with. Apparently, Ween was playing a show at the Stone Pony the next night and they were staying at a hotel around the corner with a bunch of people. Randomness.
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.")
So, with the party jumping, Andrew Einhorn, Spencer Tunick and I were ready to put our scheming minds into action. Spencer is an artist famous for getting thousands of people to get naked and lie down in public spaces. (Homeboy even had a fancy documentary called Naked States made about him. Ta-dow!)
At some point earlier in the night I asked Spencer (thinking I'd all shock him and shit), "If I can get a bunch of people to get naked, will you do one of your installations in my room?" Without missing a beat, Spence pulled a stack of postcards with his work on them and said "Hand these out and tell everyone that participates that they'll get a print of the shot. We'll shoot at midnight."
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!"
What, you don't believe me? See those two smoking hot, blonde hula girls? Yeah, that's right! They got so hot and bothered by my karaoke jam that right after i was done singing they took me in the bathroom and I totally got down with both of them! So who's gay now, huh? Huh?
Yo, you can diss and say that karaoke's gay and all. But you clearly have no idea what you're talking about because karaoke makes chicks totally hot and then they want to do you.
...doing my impression of a mime "taking on a huge dick." (See how I'm using my left hand to play with the giant plums? All you ladies out there take note!)
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!)