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.)
Oh, except for Bob (who apparently wears hospital clothes when he's just lounging around and kicking it). I asked him what's up with the shirt and he told me it was because his chest hurt. So I asked him, "So Bob, why does your chest hurt?" He goes, "Oh, because my mom's friend is a beautician who's trying to get her license." So I'm like, "What does that have to do with your chest hurting?" And Bob proceeds to tell me "Well, my mom told me that before her friend can pass her test, she's going to need to practice waxing things..." I suddenly saw where this story was going...
This is my brother's friend Sean Talty. When I showed up that evening, my brother had like 12 of his friends at the house but Talt was one of the only one's still up.
After Bob put his shirt back on (and then after I finished shuddering in the corner and hugging myself) I drove across the bridge from Lavalette over to Long Beach Island to meet up with my cousin Steve (He's a Battjer too, can you believe that?) at some ridiculous Jersey Shore Beach bar where the amazing band, The Nerds, was playing. We decided to have a few beers and try to mingle with tha locals.
This is Steve's friend Kenny from Virginia Tech (Yep, the college. Contrary to what his 34-year-old-looking-face would lead you to believe, this guy's only 22 years old).
The electric, light-up bulb flag was nice, but it just wasn't enough. So at some point in the night I dragged out the 4ft. sparklers that we bought on our recent NH Vacation.
Yep, not even three minutes later and Deborah's already grabbing my titty. Watch carefully as the effects of tequilla unfold before your very eyes. (Also, it should be noted that this is also the point in the evening where, with the exception of Jim, every single Nerve employee pussed out and went home. Spring Street Reprazent, yo!!!)
Okay, question for you: How the fuck did we not get thrown out of the bar??? I'm standing on one of the booths, screaming and doing a David Lee Roth kick while both Martin and Jessica get ready to touch my package. This is at like 10pm on a Wednesday!?! (Also, look over to the left of me...aren't those the same two girls from before making out? It's an hour and a half later and they're still going at it).
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).
The first night Joey and I made the mistake of playing teams boys vs. girls. We got our asses handed to us and were hardly halfway around the board when the ladies won. (Look how intense my expression is. When I play Cranium, I play to win.)
After a little bit of drinking and various other card games, we decided it would be fun to play "Truth or Dare." I chose "Dare" (hoping that someone would dare me to hook up with one of the girls), but instead I got "dared" to let the girls put make up on me. It was like 8th grade all over again.
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.
As hot as I looked (yeah, that's right - "I'd fuck me, I'd fuck me so hard."), Joey wasn't really into the sword-fighting thing either. So instead we had to bump naked asses.
We meant to leave work at like 10:30 - which by the time we got out to my car meant we'd be able to be on the road by 11:30 at the latest. But we all ended up running late and we didn't get on the road until almost 2pm (which basically put us right smack dab in the middle of the "leaving town for the weekend" rush.
After sitting in 2 1/2 hours of really slow traffic all through NYC and Southern CT, we finally hit some open road.
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!"
That's Cousin Kevin Crowell (who taught me how to water ski when I was a wee lad!) ferrying us over to the island for a small memorial service and burying of the ashes.
As soon as I got into Strafford, I dropped my stuff off at the hotel that my parents were staying in and then immediately headed over to Portsmith to meet up with Cousin Katie (who you may remember from such long-ago diary entries as 1997's Visiting Boston With Cousin Katie, here's us with her friend Erin.
"Well I guess it would be nice / If I could touch your body / You know not everybody / Has got a body like you," I sang to David as he smiled and coyly rubbed his groin.
I decided to sing "Faith" by George Michael. This is me striking my very authentic George Michael Stance. (P.S. - check out my little bum. You could fit that shit in a teacup.)
Yeah, so those are pretty much the only good pics I have from the Mermaid Parade this year. I told you it wasn't nearly as good as last year's. Later that evening, a bunch of us headed out to Greenpoint to check out a loftparty in my old building. Dave and I represent on the Cripp tip...
Before I had to go back to the conference on Friday morning, Sarah took me over to a restaurant called "Bennett's Smut n' Eggs." This is a breakfast-oriented diner that has TVs all over the place playing hardcore pornography.
Thelma & Louis (hehe) on the run. (Look at Louis in the background...see that serious face he's making? Yeah, that's because instead of enjoying the ride, he was responding to emails via his Blackberry messenger.)
After spending the afternoon collecting the sun's energy with my face, I decided to impress the ladies by releasing a red, wavy death-ray from my eyes.
After coming to the realization that we weren't going to die we decided we should probably start working on getting out the elevator. We pushed the "HELP" button and were promptly connected to repair company that maintains our elevator. The man we spoke to told us that he'd dispatched a mechanic and that he'd be there in 45-60 minutes. (45 minutes! Faaack! Keep in mind, we'd gotten in the elevator to go up to work because we both had to pee!). Further complicating matters, our building's front door is locked so the dispatch guy tells us we're going to have to get in touch with someone who can come down and let the elevator repair guy into our building.
Twan, Nicole,Eileen and me are all clearly repping on the Do tip. (By the way note Eileen's normal color here so you can compare it to when she's flamingo pink two pics later)
See this girl in the white tank-top? We saw her a few times throughout the day...we kept noticing her because she had really these big, hard, visible nipples jutting through here little, white tanktop. So after we saw her for like the third time, I bet Grant that I could take a better "sneaky picture" of her nipples than he could without getting caught. (Hey, I know it's a stupid game, but I had just been beaten at videogame boxing and the "strong man contest" by a guy who I had 20lbs on, I was desperate, okay!) Here's Grant's picture of her nipples. Not bad, right?
Not being able to handle the fact that Grant beat me at videogame boxing, I insisted that we both do the strong man game (I figured I was a shoe-in for an easy victory...I mean come on, look at those rippling forearms, right?)
