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Fatty gets his "Jew on" in front of the largest menorahs either of us had ever seen.
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We got to Ross & Jord's just in time to have a lovely Hanukah dinner with Ross' parents.
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Fatty crashed the fuck out on the ride. Hahah.
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After I'd finished documenting our facial hair, we headed back to the house, showered (and I shaved, thank god), packed up and hit the road to head back down to Los Angeles (to attend the surprise birthday party that Jordana had put together for him. Shhhh!).
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Fatty, seen here double fisting, was getting pretty drunk at this point in the night. I remember him turning to me, nudging me yet again and pointing out his favorite, older blonde lady and saying "Dude, I think I realized why she's so hot. She totally looks like Stifler's Mom!"
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Fatty was up first with Huey Lewis' "I Want a New Drug."
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...and refugee groupies from the 80s! Awwww, yeah! (This lady was awesome - she was totally all over Fatty. Fatty was laughing, but at the same time he was all nervous because she was there with a bunch of scary looking dudes. Check out how Fatty's all got his arms up in the air like "I'm not touching her, see? She is the one touching me!")
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Complete with air guitar and leg kicks.
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Fatty and Grant chowing down.
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...and in no time the scary, back-country logger/cowboy sex advice was flowing like tobacco spit.
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The questions!
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Here's Grant nursing a couple of beers as he got up the courage to ask some of the burly men for their best tips on how to get women to have anal sex, etc.
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One of the ranch hands was kind enough to give our saddle-sore cityslicker asses a lift back from the stable to the house (saving us the embarrasment of a bowlegged walk of pain home).
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Homeward bound.
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Fatty opening the gate next to the hoofguard on the ride back home.
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Okay, I'm running out of things to say in these captions so just relax and enjoy the pics.
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Hahah.
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Grant in the sun.
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Fatty surveying his home on the range.
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Grant holding my horse for me while I dismounted to open the gate next to the hoof guard so that we could move on to a different area of the ranch.
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He's the Fatty: on a steel horse he rides...
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Heading towards the open trails.
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Fatty in the sun.
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Grant and the Fatty on theirs. Now, one thing to keep in mind - the horses we were riding weren't wimpy petting zoo horses that have been ridden by hundreds of people. These horses were broken, but don't get ridden all that often - and when they do get ridden, they're ridden by real cowboys who know how to handle them. So in the beginning, we each had to spend quite a bit of time with our horses pretending like we knew how to act like we were in charge.
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...and here's the Fatty and Grant.
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Us in the stable
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Fatty at the ranch gates.
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Grant and Fatty.
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Fatty in front of the fire hydrant for YET ANOTHER potential JDate pic.
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Yaaaaaay, Horses!
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Fwiends!
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They're both smiling. Hahaha.
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Haaaaaay!
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The approach.
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More pics of Fatty making friends, this time with my nostril-friend horse.
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Fatty making friends.
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Fatty cooking breffess for the boys. Bacon? Bad Jew! Baaaaaad Jew!
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Fatty and the ranch dog.
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Scarfing Taco Bell in the parking lot while waiting for the theatre to open. Classy!
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...RETALIATION! The Fatty Strikes Back!
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We got to North Fork and met up with Fatty and Grant's good friend Aaron Schmidt who had driven up from San Diego to visit with his boys. We dropped our stuff off at the ranch house and by the time we'd driven back into town (around 10pm, mind you) the only place open that was serving food was McDonalds (where the heat wasn't working). Here's us with Aaron "Double A" Schmidt eating and freezing.
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Fatty took himself a little post-McDonalds nappity nap and opened his eyes just in time to see Grant taking a picture of him as lead star in the first braining of our California adventure.
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After a restful night of sleep at Uncle Ira's, we woke on Monday to do some quick exploring of San Fran before starting the four and a half hour drive out to the ranch in North Fork.
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Fatty and his French toast.
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Then he gave us the "Jacob Dylan"
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First we got a taste of the JFK, Jr.
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After getting settled in at Uncle Ira's, we all headed to downtown SF to meet up with some friends (my friend Alysha, Jamie Waxman, who we know from NYC, and one of Jordana's good friends from school) and have some Thai food.
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...and Fatty showed off his incredibly sculptible hair.
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Uncle Ira and Dave (check out the Fateman family resemblance. Awesome).
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...this guy's dad's brother (Yay! It's the Fatty!) and was kind enough to put us up for the night!
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With Frank's drum kit taking up the entire rear half of his car, Fatty and I were forced to share the front seat.
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Me and the Fatty (who's looking super-disco in the photo).
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Sweaty Frank, Emma and a schoolboyish Fatty.
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The Fatty on bass...
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At first you thought that this photo was repetitive and not worth including...and then you looked again and noticed Fatty's ridiculous expression in the background and suddenly everything made sense.
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Haase, while Grant and the Fatty do their best impersonations of the shaved headed wunderkind. HA ha ha ha.
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Hahahaha.
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John Craven, Fatty, Chris and myself met up with Grant for a lil' birthday dinner at Cafe Gitane in Soho.
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On the walk over we tried to distract Grant from wondering if he was on his way to a surprise party by having a contest to see who could most closely mimic the running and jumping mural figures on 2nd St between B & C. Here's Fatty's attempt.
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As you can tell by his face in this photo, Grant knew something was up. Emma and Lo called as planned, but dinner was taking too long. As I kept trying to rush things along, Grant kept saying things like "Why the rush? Why are we in such a hurry?" All smarmy-like.
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Is it just me or does Fatty look like a ten year-old wearing Gene Wilder's Mr. Wonka wig from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory?
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Fire up iTunes and here cue up Crüe's "Home Sweet Home." Awww, yeah.
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Here's Chris and Fatty back at my apartment getting ready to head back to their respective homes - so ends our journey.

Between the three of us that had cameras, we managed to take just over 2,000 pictures which I edited down to 21 entries comprised of exactly 790 photos. And so it's with these last few words that I end the European Vacation Series (which is by far, the longest diary project I've ever undertaken). Back to life in NYC!
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As we scrambled up to the gate we realized that there are probably worse things than being accidentally stranded in Iceland for a day or two.
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With one final pic of the fantasic four, we said goodbye to Grant (who was staying behind in London for another couple of days) and....
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...boarded our plane.
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But not before gratuitious man-hugs were administered by the Fatty.
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Shuttlebus from the rental car drop-off to the terminal.
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Saturday morning we woke up, double checked our packed bags, thanked Grant's parents for their hospitality, and hit the road for Heathrow.
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Here's another one. This one's my pensive and artsy "I'm acting like the camera's not there, but clearly I must know it is because I'm the one who took the picture" picture. Who's more emo than me? Motherfuck this photo diary nonsense, I'm gonna get me a LiveJournal. (ps - look at the two cutey patooties passed out next to me like little sleeping lambs. Teeheehee.)
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Saturday, Chris was in town and the four of us got together for brunch at 9th Street Market to reminisce about our recent hijinx in Europe.
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Better yet, Fatty was smelling the flowers on our table when he got too close and ended up getting pollen all over his nose. (PS - Go see Shrek 2. When Shrek gets turned into a human...oooops....SPOILER!.....the human version of Shrek looks exactly like Fatty. Seriously. It's fucking hilarious).
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I'm Shrek! Ahhhhhhhhhh!
the november roundup
November, 2003
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On Wednesday Grant came back from London (he stayed behind to hang with his parents after our vacation ended, remember?) and was going to be in NYC for a few days (one of which we threw him a surprise party) before heading back to Los Angeles to do some final work oh his television pilot (nope, so not kidding). That night Fatty, (the rarely photographed) Michael Martin and myself all met up with Grant at the nearby Congee Village for some tasty dinner.
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On the way home, we stopped for a little McDonalds drive thru action.
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The group headed outside for our last round of goodbyes. With the exception of Grant who was staying behind for a few more days to hang with his family, the rest of us were heading back to the States in the mornin
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Fatty, Charlene, Martin and Dani.
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We posed for one last group photo before all going our separate ways. Let's hear it for Halloween 2003. Wooooo!
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Dani and the Fatty (who, by the looks of this photo, has had a few drinks).
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Here's Steve, Charlene, Chris, Dani, Grant and the Fatty out on near the dancefloor and visibly liquored up at this point.
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And hey, I bet you'd completely forgotten that this was Halloween night. We'd almost forgotten too - or at least until Charlene and Dave found these creepy masks that the put on. (This was our first Halloween in two years that we didn't get to attend Viola's "My Friends are All Out of Your League" Supermodel Party. See: Halloween 2001 and Halloween 2002.)
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Hahahah. What's better than Fatty's face in this picture?
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ESS-EX! C'mon where my nig-noggz at?
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Awww, yeah - check tha setup! Awwww, look how cute Grant's mom is all displaying the food with the boys. (And be forewarned, anybody making remarks about Moms in the comments section will be promptly banned. In the words, of the Wise Fatty, "Dat shit ain' coo'!")
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And then we drove back towards Corringham to the White Lion Pub in Fobbing to meet up Grant's dad and...
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After spending too much money at the arcade (those pound coins certainly aren't US quarters) we went the the nearby "Under the Arches" restaurant and got our fish and chips (Because it's just not a shore experience until you've had something deep-fried).
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....ARCADE TIME! (Look at Grant and Chris peeking out in the background. Hahaha).
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Here's Fatty's "meat from three different animals with cheese" sandwich. He's going to put this pic up on JDate to subtly communicate to the ladies that he doesn't keep kosher. Bad Jew! Baaaad!
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After a long-ass day of traveling and layovers, we landed in Heathrow a little past 11pm local time.
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After a few England-bound hours in the air, it was time for ANOTHER MEAL! Wooooo! Who loves airline food more than us?
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...we arrived safely and without incident (save a slight yelling match between Grant and the rest of the passengers in the car who politely asked him if he would "SLOW THE FUCK DOWN SO DON'T HYDROPLANE OFF THE ROAD AND DIE FOR FUCK'S SAKE!") at Grant's parent's home and celebrated with some stiff drinks...
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Oh, conked the fuck already. That's where.

(Update: Ok, in Grant's defense I have to post something from an email he just sent clarifying why he was worried about the whole plane thing. Turns out he wasn't worried that I'd be mistaken for a a terrorist, he was worried that they were going to think I was a spy. In his email he included a link to story on the BBC news website about 14 "planespotters," people that take pictures of airplanes as a hobby, that were just convicted of "espionage" after being arrested for taking pictures of Greek military planes during an airshow there. Ka-ka-kuh-razy! Good looking out, Grizza. Sorry.)
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Check it out: both Grant and Fatty are "handling their luggage."
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We bid our lovely condo a fond farewell and piled into our sweet, lil' rental one last time.
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Once in the airport, we grabbed a quick slice...
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With a fistfulla cone, we bid a last fond-farewell to Rethymnon.
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Being that we were leaving Crete in the morning to head back to the UK, we decided to take one more trip into Rethymnon to walk around and get some ice cream.
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Back at the condo after dinner, Fatty managed to get off a fairly decent braining while Grant took a nap. He was about to lean in closer, but Grant woke up (This kid's so high-strung a mouse fart'd wake him up).
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Not completely happy with the shaky, hand-held quality of the previous "Scootering" footage we'd shot a few days earlier, Chris strapped the camera to the back of my bike so we could film our mountainous ascent on the coastal backroads. (I'll get around to posting clips of this someday. Don't worry, with the exception of Grant trying to brain we while I'm squatting down and talking to the bike-mounted cam, you're really not missing much).
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Hahahah.