Sweet Maria, look at that payload! Grant masks up to protect himself from Dash: Poo Terrorist. Grant ended up having to use the better part of a box of baby wipes, while I played the part of the bad friend who took pics from a safe sideline distance.
...crazy-ass baby diarrhea. Grant and I were sitting on the couch and all of a sudden we smelled something that reminded us of a really sharp block of cheddar that had gone bad.
On the way home I was hungry again so we stopped at Subway. Tara, who was still feeling sick from White Castle, used my sandwich bag to block out the smell of my giant meatball hoagie. Hahahaha.
Here's me leaning in and making eating noises trying to get Grant to make good on his threat. (I figured worse case scenario, if he actually did throw up, we could just put one of the huge soda-pails in front of him to catch the mess!).
After we polished off the first bucket, Grant was feeling pretty sick. Fatty and I started on the second bucket and Grant was like "Please stop eating you guys. Seriously. I'm so full the sound of you eating is going to make me throw up."
In case any of you were wondering what the bottoms of a person's feet would look like after walking around on a drink-soaked, ash laden bar basement carpet - here you go. Seriously, I can't think of anything grosser than this picture....
After Doogie and Keanu, I thought that there'd be no where to go but down. But then I managed to snap this pic of The Sweatiest Armpit Guy Ever. Suh-weet!