i keep a diary

May 07, 2004

The SS Farley Sails Tonight

On Friday afternoon my best friend Scott (who lives in the town I grew up in) called and asked if I wanted to head out to the Jerz for a visit. "Why, what's going on?" I asked. "Oh, nothing." Scott replied. "That is if you call taking Timmy's boat and sailing across Lake Hopatcong to go drinking at the Tidal Wave nothing!" Quickly understanding the potential for comedy, I called Grant and Fatty and we headed for the Holland Tunnel.

Fatty and Grant went and got Fatty's Ford Probe and arranged to pick me up on the corner of Broome and Broadway on the way towards the tunnel.
driving ˆ nyc ˆ sign
grant
Fatty pulled up with Grant hanging out of the sunroof and screaming while making his best "we're getting on the SS Farley" pirate face.
sunroof ˆ grant
grant
"Arrrrrrgh, matey!"
close up ˆ driving ˆ pirate ˆ grant
fatty
Fatty at the helm of his probe.
fatty
fatty, grant, me
Fatty and I were tired so we stopped at a bodega for some weird, bullet shaped energy drinks. There were only two can left...
shrug ˆ fatty ˆ grant ˆ me
grant
...but we at least let Grant lick the tip.
gay ˆ hat ˆ grant
Jersey bound in the Holland Tunnel, baby.
driving ˆ tunnel
fatty, grant, me
Fatty half-heartedly rocked out in the backseat...
driving ˆ metal ˆ roadtrip ˆ fatty ˆ grant ˆ me
fatty
...and then promptly fell asleep. On the road, I kept calling Scott trying to tell him that we were on our way and to wait for us at Tim's dock, but he'd forgotten his phone and Tim's boat, the "SS Farley," sailed across glorious Lake Hopatcong without us. Boooooo!
asleep ˆ driving ˆ roadtrip ˆ fatty
russ, scott
After we heard the bad news, we rerouted our course for the other side of the lake and met up with everyone at the colorfully local lakeside bar "The Tidal Wave Bar & Grill." (Which you may remember as being the site of the infamous "Midget Madness incident" of 2001)
russ ˆ scott
fatty, grant, scott
By the time we'd arrived, the boys that had come over across the lake in Tim's boat were quite a few drinks ahead of us.
fatty ˆ grant ˆ scott
Dah-dah-Dempsey! Mike Dempsey had actually imbibed enough to think that he knew how to breakdance.
roxbury high school
After "throwing down" a few moves for the camera, he mysteriously disappeared. For almost an hour, no one could figure out where he'd gone off to. Then Tim came in from smoking a cigarette on the back deck (which overlooks the water) and announced that he'd "found Dempsey."
roxbury high school
It turns out Dempsey had decided to walk down to the dock and pass the fuck out in Tim's boat! We spent the next ten minutes playing a game called "Don't Wake Dempsey!" All you need is a few drunk friends with good throwing arms and an assortment of items to throw! (We found out that ice works better than coins). Points are awarded each time you managed to hit Dempsey in the head and/or face without arousing him from his drunken slumber!
boat ˆ passed out
The loser is the person who finally elicits a slurred scream of "OW! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU ASSHOLES FUCKING DOING? THAT FUCKING HURT!" Make sure not to use up all of your ice, your Dempsey will need it to help reduce the swelling on the mulitude of red bumps on his head and/or face.
boat ˆ passed out
grant, scott
Afterwards we all piled into the Probe (not wanted to risk our lives for the return voyage across the still very chilly lake) and headed back over to Scott's house for a deck fire and some s'more roasting!
smores ˆ grant ˆ scott
fatty, grant
I tricked Grant into posing with the bag of marshmallows while Fatty snuck up behind and executed a flawless (and hairless!) braining. Hahahah.
brained ˆ hat ˆ marshmallow ˆ fatty ˆ grant
fatty
Fatty snuggles with Jericho. After s'mores, we went to the nearby elementary school yard and played three hours of frisbee with my amazing light up frisbee and then after we'd all sobered up, we packed it in and drove back to NYC super late at night.
dog ˆ fatty