My neck hurts. As I sit here in my designated cube, I’m in massive pain. Someone give me a damn massage. Maybe I’ll see if Denise needs some practice for an up coming exam, but either work needs to be done, stat. My complaint is somewhat illegitimate because the pain was self-imposed. If anyone is to blame, it’s Audrey, Sarah and Karen who had me shaking my ass on Saturday night. Pain killers will be necessary, and I may even scold Audrey tonight at her Faint listening Party.
This weekend rekindled my love affair with the weekend. It was filled with fabulousness from start to finish. It began Friday when Builder and I sat around practicing our cover of Weezer’s, The Sweater Song. We were sitting around in our underwear playing Weezer. Life can be so sweet some times. Speaking of Sweet, Mr. Whitney Sweet showed up at my doorstep sometime after 7pm. He joined Dan, Noah, Mike, Builder and I on a trip to Motor City to have a couple beers while Dj Del played us some choice cuts and I starred at the gorgeous bartender.
We packed it in after a few drinks and headed back to 186 to continue the bevy intake until it was time for the Mercury Lounge. A few beers later and my head was feeling the effects of my empty stomach. Despite the impending doom of a stomach full of beer with little or no food to soak it up, we stopped by the Mercury to catch Dirty on Purpose’s set. Unfortunately we were misinformed in regards to their set time. We managed to see the last few songs of the set from the back corner. Jin, Beach, Daylen, Tumbleweed, Lucy and some other kids were there enjoying the rock. Following the show Whitney, me and a third person who I’m having trouble remembering jumped into a cab and headed to Trash Bar.
We were greeted by Max and Stevo who were standing post outside of Trash guiding the kids into the club. There were heaps of kids there (at least it felt like it) ready to welcome Stevo into the Walk Humongous family. Its great seeing other bands come out to support the cause, (i.e. Surveyor Pue, The Stammers, The Head Set and so on). The band ripped the crowd open and the back room became a beer soaked mess. I was on the wrong side of a massive Culkin, but it didn’t matter because I was tossed. As hard as I’ve tried, I can’t recall much of the set outside of Builder taking swigs of my beer and spitting as much as possible on Max while I tossed my empty beer cans at them. Their cover of Iggy and the Stooges, I Wanna Be Your Dog had us up in arms. Someone even picks up a bag of empty bottles and threw them on Max. Good times. Stevo informed me that Walk Humongous recorded on Sunday so get ready for some epic tracks.
With my hunger and Whitney in tow, we shot back to Manhattan for some shots at a random bar and way to much pizza. The evening can be recapped in the fact that Whitney thought we were still in Brooklyn while we walked up Clinton Street.
Saturday started with me waking up in the previous evening’s clothes and rallying Whitney and Builder for some brunch. We met up with Sean Bones at Clinton Street Bakery and after a long wait we feasted in fashion. Everyone scored sweet breakfasts and we were now able to welcome the day with open arms.
After Whitney introduced me to the piss-you-pants humor of Ali G, Christina came by the house with her friend Kaley. Christina, Builder and I managed to have an extremely productive meeting while Noah kept Whitney company in the living room. By the time we finished our business it was time to grab dinner. Because I want to spread the love, Noah, Del and I took Whit to Boca Chica for a mojito and some coconut shrimp. My weekly crack fix was placated.
It was back to 186 for a serious hang and more Ali G before rolling out to the keg party. We had to be nice a tricky because Dee and Kyle had stopped in prior to their dinner date. By 9pm we had assembled a crew that included Builder, Noah, Miriam, Whit, Jordan, Stevo, Tim, Adam Roth (who is my link to the Olsen twins) and maybe a couple more. We rolled up 1st Ave, hopped on the L Train and were welcomed to the party by Louis, Dano, Erin, Leah, Cami and Elise. We got our drink on for a solid hour before the Maid of Honor showed up with the boyfriend of the year. Dee was genuinely surprised thanks to the efforts of Kyle and all those involved.
Kids continued to trickle into the party and at some point Jin and Juliet rolled through. We walked to a deli hoping to find some vino for the ladies and some Red Bull for the boys. Instead of downing a Red Bull, I decided to lose my Sparks virginity. If you haven’t heard, Sparks is some sort of malt liquor energy drink that cracked me out more than pure Columbian cocaine. My head was spinning and Whitney wanted to dance so we accompanied Juliet and Jin on a trip to Misshapes.
Juliet pulled some sort of string that helped us snake our way past the huge line for the party. Once inside we headed straight for the bar. While waiting for my vodka tonic, Dennis sped by with Jarvis at his side. I may be a straight man (as are they), but those boys looked glorious together. This was the only look I scored of the Pulp prophet. Much to my dismay, we missed the set Jarvis and Steve Mackey laid down. We made way for the dance floor that was shaking like crazy because of Melody’s work on the decks. As if that wasn’t enough, the Tarts of Pleasure hit the decks and played some of my favorite tracks, (including Queen and mucho Bloc Party). The room was packed, the dance floor was crazy and my head was spinning. Hawkins, Tony and Kahn showed up and got down for a bit. The entire party was tons of fun, and mi thinks I’ll be gracing it again soon.
We finally got Whitney to leave the party despite his drunken belief that some girl was coming back to make out with him. The boy could barely stand up, but who was I to stand in his way. Luckily we managed to trick him into thinking we were doing shots downstairs, and we pushed him out the door.
Following the party, Hawkins, Jin, a passed out Whitney and I cruised back out to Brooklyn. Life drastically changes when there is an automobile in the picture. We returned to the kegs to find Dan, Dee, Kyle, Mike, Christie and a few others wasting the night away. We sat in the backyard until the sun came up and then we shot back over the bridge. We dropped Whitney off (read: I carried him up the stairs and threw him one the couch) and had to shoot up to Times Square where Tony was dealing with some girl drama. After a quick drop, we went to Hawkins place to drink wine and play spin the bottle. Yes, we played spin the bottle and I have no regrets except for the fact that the Hawkins managed to slip his tongue in my mouth.
Around noon, Kyle, Dee and I took a surreal walk down Avenue B back to 186 where Builder was getting up to go watch football. We also managed to wake up Whitney who was a bit out of sorts but proud of our partying. I managed to lay down around 12:30 and caught a few hours of sleep.
Fuck Maslow’s Hierarchy of needs. He was way off. When I was a young chap navigating through the murky waters of Catholic School and small town minds, my life revolved around three things: my insane belief in religion, my love for my family and a serious passion for football. Though the first in this trilogy has long been subdued, the other fires are still burning brightly. With the NFL football season now in full swing, my life has added purpose.
Before I forget, big ups to T.W. and the Irish for their huge dismantling of Michigan in the fourth quarter. All hail Notre Dame. Too bad we lost to BYU the first week of the season.
Anyway, I woke up after logging 2 hours of sleep and watched the 2nd half of the Jets game. For any of you who may doubt Curtis Martin and his veteran status, take a look at his numbers; 196 yards on the ground to compliment his two touchdowns. The boy can play. After the game I watched a bit of the Giant beating at the hands of the Eagles. Christie and I met at Blockbuster and wasted our late afternoon watching Head of State. Could someone please give Tracy Morgan a job? He is a funny fucker. Who sells meat out of a gym bag? The movie was rubbish, but I’m a sucker for Bernie Mac. We closed the weekend with Builder and some Japanese food.
What a riot! Its weekends like this one that make me love NYC.
*** A quick news bit: Pete says, "You complete me," and Karl agrees. Let's hope he can stay off the smack until the Webster Hall show.
2 Comments:
any free booze at the faint listening party?
nah, no free booze. some give-a-ways and half price drinks for the first two hours (from my understanding).
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