The gang getting ready to chow down. (PS - Already at this early point in the night, Chef, who you can barely see peeking out behind Colin, was so wasted that he kept screaming at the restaurant and almost had us thrown out).
"Whoa! Not coo', not coo!" Colin and Seth watched on in horror as Chef continued his a capella serenade detailing his wish to engage in anallingus with a stranger. It was around this time that Seth made the executive decision to get Chef the hell off stage.
It was awesome. He was totally surprised. The best part was with each turn of his head he'd spot another group of friends that were there and was more surprised with each new realization.
As the night gained momentum, we abandoned our little table in the corner and took over the couch directly in front of the stage. Here's Frank, Seth, Colin and Tara.
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).
....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.
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.).