Four drinks later and (many hours later) and Grant finds himself locking lips with yet another "beaut." (The only thing funnier than this pic is Grant's reaction when I showed it to him days later...he didn't even remember being at this bar, nevermind the girl.).
Yeah, here you go - we haven't even left my block yet and already Scott's got his shirt unbuttoned trying to see if it's any easier to hail a cab while looking like a gay leather enthusiast.
Scott almost ended up getting in a fist fight with this guy, but then after the live band that was there played a few songs by The Dead, everyone mellowed out (yeah, maaaaan...play "Box of Rain") and they ended up buying each other shots...
Check out the tan lines and the New England Patriots Superbowl Champions Sweatshirt (Size: XL), even if Russ wasn't about to lick the tattoo of a rose on her tit, this would still be an incredible photo.
Look at that smile, think Russ has had a few? Brave soul that he is, he starts chatting up her friend too. "Why yes, you're legs are smooth." Priceless.
We showed up around 9pm and everyone there had pretty much been drinking all day...so instead of enjoying lovely conversation with new people, we just decided to fuck with the guests that had passed out. Here's Grant posing with our new buddy.
So after we took the first few pictures, we went around the party and started showing them to people just to see what their reactions would be...turns out, most people wanted to also pose with our passed out buddy (Except for the guy's close friends, they didn't want to be in the pictures, they just gave us the guy's email so we could mail him the pics a few days later...which I did).
No stranger to whipping out my own bag, I handed over the camera and teamed up with Grant for this amazing photo. (Look at our faces!!! nd bonus points to me for actually resting my nuts on the guys chair.)
See that girl in the purple tank top? I asked her what kind of beads she was wearing and she told me they were Mardi Gras beads, so I started chanting "Show Yer Tits! Show Yer Tits!" Which she did, but my camera went off too early. Sorry, I got excited! (PS - Look at Kenny lending a "helping hand" in lifting up her shirt)
When Kenny's not working (at his job where he impersonates "Doug" from "King of Queens"), he's busying wooing the beautiful (and tan, did I say tan?) ladies of the Jizzersey Shizzore.
Hey, it's not really a night of jerseyshoredrinking unless somebody tries to kick YOUR FUCKING FAGGOT ASS!!! This guy proudly displays his ripped shirt. (Bonus points to his friend for making that face. Ha!).
A mysterious hand works to adjust the "I'm a Drunk Guy" Napkin Hat while Jessica busies herself making faces at Brian. Now that's what I call teamwork!
Meanwhile, the rest of the gang continues our descent into behavior that will likely result in us never being able to look each other in the eyes again. Check me out full-on cupping J.Lasher's titty while simultaneously bringing Bibbins downtown on a Star Trek Voyage (bravely going where no man has gone before).
Hey Buddy, before you start on your second slice, you might want to finish eating the HUGE CRUMB stuck to your cheek that's left over from your first slice! Hahah.
Can you pick out what's different here? Yep, that's right. Only one person is wearing a blue shirt. (From L to R: Lil' Buddy, Tall Stranger that was trying to be "money" like Vince Vaughn, Chris, Grant, and Grant's crazy friend Alyssa who came back to my place and tried to cheat on her boyfriend with me. Crazy, crazy, cuh-razy.
Right when I got off the highway and into Boston, I called Kate to ask where I should meet her. Answering the phone, she barely managed to slur a hello. Turns out a few hours earlier, she had been trying to light a match without removing it from the matchbook (kids, let this be a lesson) and the whole book ignited burning her hand pretty badly. She and her roommate Erin promptly headed to the bar across the street to try to ease the pain. By the time I showed up - she was definitely no longer feeling any pain. Here's Kate right after we got back to her place.
After we left the Grand (aka - when the free vodka ran out around 2am, we headed over to gay-ass SPA). Matt Weiner (who also hails from Succasunna, NJ believe it or not) feels the love. He sent me this email the next day:
"Hey Bri, Just wanted to thank you for havin us last night and for making me 2 1/2 hours late for work today. I was supposed to be in at 9 am for a presentation. Uh oh spaghettios! Not to mention I blacked out at some point in Spa but somehow managed to order delivery from a Diner. I kinda remember eating it. Yeah, It's all over my living room."
Oh, wait a minute. There not cozied up...actually, this woman, whom none of us had ever met, got so drunk she passed out on him! (But not before she managed to have 10 drunken, pretend conversations on her cell phone. HAHAHA!)
On the way home from Cherry Tavern, a well liquored Josh Teixeira took it upon himself to start attacking people Wolverine-style with a discarded Xmas tree he found lying on the side walk.
Bar #3 - 7B, 2:47am: Okay, after dropping Melissa off (regrettably, alone...she opted not to make-out with that girl) we headed over to 7B to see if the Nerve crew was still kicking up any life and we found this. Jesus.
"Hey, thish isch a fuggin' *HIC* guh-reat, party...*BURP*," Peter said right before he ended up passing out in the backroom no more than 45 minutes into a brand new year. Lightweight.
Here's the birthday boy in all his 33-year-old glory. Mad props to a wiggity-wasted Emma for ripping Joey's shirt open right before I snapped this pic. We were there to celebrate Joey's birthday and this is the only picture that I have of him...which is understandable when you look at some of the other things that were going on. Like...
I ran over to them and kept trying to flatter one of the drunk ladies into letting me take her picture. I kept telling her "C'mon, it'll be so pretty." This photo is the result of me chasing her around and trying to get her in the frame. (Note my eye on the left). She was dying to dig into her freshly bought 16oz Bud Pounder (with a straw, no less. ROCK!)
