...and managed to capture this totally insane action shot of the rocket taking off! Check out the rocket's stick still in the frame! (Bonus points to Steve for managing to throw out a "thumbs up!")
And with my good friend Amy Albano. Right when we walked in the door, we started running into high school chums! Here's Amy posing with Jen Eva (who I had the biggest crush on back in high school when she sat in front of me in geometry sophomore year...yeah, can you blame me?) and her little brother Ricky Eva (who has since got all growed up and actually works with my mom as an occupational therapist in a nearby public school!)
I was happy to see that wanting to pose with drunk, passed-out people is an international phenomenon. The Korean kids posed with Mr. Roh, but covered their faces a bit, so they wouldn't get in trouble. After they were done showing me the "Korean way" to fuck with someone that's passed out, I showed them....
Fatty even showed up trashed out of his mind with a bunch of his co-workers! One of them passed out on the infamous couch in the back. (The site of 2004's infamous "Drunk Guy Jenga") And despite her being one of Fatty's co-workers, rules are rules. If you pass out in public, it probably means that...
The band had planned on having a huge post-show brunch party on Sunday at APT to celelbrate their first gig, but when the gig got cancelled with less than 24 hours notice, no one was sure what to do about the brunch. In the end, the band decided to press-on and have it. Here's Grant, Chris the Greek and Frank!
With Frank properly attired, we instructed the driver to make a few victory laps around Soho so we could shoot the shit and have a few drinks before our first destination: Blue Mountain BBQ on Spring St.
After our jams, we were shooting the shit about his company and the prospect of me moving out to San Francisco when this lady (who weighed like 83lbs and was totally spun out of her mind on meth) came over to us and just kept talking and talking and talking and talking. The only time she even stopped to take a breath was when she smiled for this photo. After ten minutes of politely enduring her word-torrent and hinting that we were ready to be left alone, we finally gave up and literally walked away in the middle of her (still!) talking. Thumbs up for meth!
In the middle of the Von Bondies set, I saw Lizzy and her boyfriend (and fellow Spin writer) Marc up in some fancy private balcony that overlooked the stage. She waved me up and I got to watch the show from a crazy vantage point.
Later that night, the Fatty felt like "uhhh, maybe a little Thai, dude?" So we headed over to this joint on Newbury Street. And then after dinner we headed over to Boston Billiards, the place where we'd be surprising Seth.
Check out my blinging imitation Oakley Blades. You're wet, aren't you? (PS - Sarah pointed out that my dad looks like the dad from the Family Guy and I haven't been able to look at him without smiling since).
And this time we were joined by karaoke first-timer Amy Albano! (Amy have known each other since 6th grade. We were roommates in college and in two different apartments in NYC! She was also one of the four people responsible for building the Indoorvillage!)
On Tuesday, Victoria (the bestest roommate ever) cooked a special dinner and invited some people to our apartment to celebrate the fact that I ended up being offered the job to run the scavenger hunt company.
Friday I went to Lolita's to wish Tiffany a happy birthday! Wooo. Here's the birthday girl with Sarah and some guy who'd wired his cell phone so that he could make calls on that old school red phone you see him clutching.
...I'll have you know that they both completely scraped their plates fucking clean! What's funnier than Sarah pulling the totally laid back "thumbs up for a job well done" face?
Despite what this story would otherwise indicate, Tobias must actually have a really good sense of humor. At one point during the five minutes he spent trying to get us to hit him, he pointed at me and said "Fuck you." then slowly turning to point at Scott said, "And fuck you." And then to further illustrate his point, he took his lil' marker back out and wrote this on the wall complete with arrows clarifying who he was directing "the fucking" at. That shit ruled. THAT should be his new tag. Tobias, if you ever read this, I'm sorry we gave you a hard time. Maybe we just caught you on a bad night?
PS - The fact that I'm sorry doesn't change the fact that you're tag is GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY! Hahahahaha.
Friday night I walked 3 short blocks over to Pioneer Bar on Bowery to attend The Black Table's winter party. Here's Amy Blair with Black Table founder (and former college classmate of mine) Eric Gillin.
Later that night Grant, Fatty and I went over to the The Buckhorn, the local cowboy/loggers bar to do some research for Grant's "Sex Advice from Cowboys" article. Here's me with the bar's very real stuffed bear.
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.
Seriously, check it. From the hair right down to the glasses, he's got it down! Even the man himself gives Fatty a "thumbs up" for his flawless impression.
...a huge Cretan man that looked like a bizarro "Ogre Version" of our good friend Ross Martin. Not willing to let him escape undocumented, we dispatched Chris (who speaks fluent Greek) to tell the giant Ross-Ogre (R'ogre, if you will) that he looked just like a friend of ours and would he mind posing for a picture. There was an uncomfortably long pause as he pondered our request (which I spent fearing he was about to crush all of our heads like grapes) but instead he gave a polite nod and posed for this fantastic pic.
On Wednesday, Grant and I got to the office only to find samples of some of the new merchandise Nerve.com is thinking of selling. Hmmm....Nerve.com trucker hats? And the verdict is?
At 8:59pm, just as we sat down on a bench to eat our dinner the power was finally restored to Soho and the Lower East Side (we were the last neighborhoods in all of NYC to get it restored going a whoppoing 28 hours and 28 minutes without it)! As the lights came up all around us, people everywhere were laughing and clapping and cheering and singing. Yay, power!
Thumbs up from Bert. (This guy was awesome, earlier in the night when he drove us out we learned that he had graduated from MIT with a degree in theoretical math but lost his job, and was driving the bus on the weekends to earn a little extra money).
This guy was one of the only people there that fit-in with the rest of the crowd less than we did. I mean, c'mon, homeboy was wearing a leather vest! I went up to him and told him that he bore an uncanny resemblance to my brother-in-law (you know, the guy that married my non-existent sister) and asked if I could take his pic (when all I really wanted was a pic of his leather vest). Anyway, he turned out to be the nicest guy in the world and we ended up hanging out with him the rest of the night (and I got the pic of his leather vest, taboot).
Haha. This is me and Grant with the staff at the Homestyle Cafe Diner. He and I have eaten lunch there a couple days a week for years and we've all become friends over the years.
Anybody who knows me knows that for a long time I've been totally fascinated by "Pomodoro Guy." (He the guy that stands on the east side of the Broadway/Spring intersection, right outside of our offices, holding a giant sign advertising the nearby Pomodoro Pizzeria). Anyway, after months of seeing him everyday and saying hi, things eventually progressed to the causal "about the weather" conversation - but one day a few months back I ran into him on my block (and found out he's my neighbor) and ever since then we've sorta become buds. Hence I will now refer to "Pomodoro Guy" as Jack - his God-given name.