On Friday night I went to The Dove on Thompson Street to see some OLD SCHOOL Nerve.com friends who have since gotten all-growed-up and moved out of NYC so they could start MAKING BABIES! Soon after I arrived, look who showed up with a stroller!
On Tuesday night I went to Greenwich Village to see Em & Lo knocked up at the same time! Check out the dual-preggo action! These two do everything together. So awesome! With proud fathers-to-be Rob and Joey, respectively. Congrats, you guys!
Wait just a goddamn minute. Did the peyote someone accidentally slipped in my dinner just kick in or is this suddenly a picture of Joey playing Pictionary with a three-foot midget that's leaning on a walking stick while hoisting a frosty Bud? Oh, you see the midget too? *Whew!*
Then out of the blue, who should show up to the party? None other than our former Nerve co-worker (from way back in the day), Joey Cavella! How after leaving Nerve had moved back to his native LA.
If you look in the upper, left corner you can see Lorelei's hand trying to grab the bottle of EarlyTimes away from Joey. I wish I could've recorded her scolding him. (Lorelie: "Joey! Put that down! Stop that!" Joey: "I wasn't really drinking it! I was just pretending to drink it for the photo!")
We arrived early (around 10ish) to ensure that we'd be able to secure the table right up front next to the karaoke machine. That way later on in the evening when you're real drunk and you want to "correct" people who aren't performing a song up to par by singing over them as loudly as you can, you'll know that they can hear you. Because hey, people love to know when they're doing something wrong. Especially at karaoke. (From L to R: Lorelei, Sean, Joey, Emma and Mary.)
It turns out, the only thing that moths like more than light is....Joey's hair. As soon as he stepped out the door they bum-rushed (moth-rushed?) his gorgeous locks.
Hardee-har-har. So now I'm wearing girly make-up and I figure that if I choose "dare" again, they'll reward me for being a good sport and this time I'll get to make out. Too bad I was half right. They wanted me to make out, but they wanted me to make out with Joey. When I informed them that I wouldn't kiss him with tongue, the girls conferred in the corner and then came back to announce that in lieu of us kissing, they'd decided that they'd prefer to watch us have what they called "A Sword-fight."
For a brief moment, it sounded like a win-win alternative until I realized that there were no actual swords in the vicinity.
Too bad living in NYC makes everywhere else seem weird. Around 7:30ish we pulled off the road in northeastern CT to get some dinner. Every place we stopped at was completely mobbed with people. We finally settled on Friendly's (which beyond being filled with a "not-so-Friendly" waitstaff, also had a 25 minute wait for a table). We elected to do the "smart" thing and eat outside. So instead of only waiting 25 minutes inside, we sat outside, freezing our asses off for 50 minutes waiting for our food...all the while listening to somebody's frigging car alarm go off in the parking lot. In the words of Isabella, "Oh, for Frank's sake! Turn that gosh darn thing off!"
After getting out we headed down to sub-mercer to say hi to my friend Peter who was spinning. Joey ended up buying a drink (which at sub-mercer is like $12). So after we leave the club, he all pulls these two glasses out from under his shirt. When we asked him why he took them, he dropped science explaining "If I'm going to pay that much for a drink, I'm going to keep the glass.....er, plus some other glass too."
Here's us in the stairwell with Joey Cavella after being let out by the elevator repair guy. (When we called Joey to tell him we were stuck in the elevator, he was out partying and was a little drunk and thought we were fucking with him. He was all like "Yeah, so you want me to come down to the office and open the door because you're stuck? Yeah right!", then hung up! It took us three calls to convince him that we weren't kidding).
Sometime in the middle of the night, Jack's furnace stopped running and when we woke up in the morning, some ice cubes that had been dropped on the floor earlier in the night still hadn't melted. That's how fucking cold it was when we woke up.
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...
