Last night, we went out in park slope to celebrate my roommate’s birthday. For once, it was great to go to dinner and a bar that was within a walking distance of our apartment. No subway or cab ride for us bitches.
But first, Luca time!
More Luca time!
Getting in on Luca’s photo.
Birthday boy.
Yea, I can’t help it if I’m naturally photogenic. I mean, look at those eyes! LOOK!
Whaaa?
Chris and his oh so ca-razy friends!
Not quite sure what this is about.
The most artistic jump picture ever.
Jeff gives a thumbs down to the chicas in the background at Union Hall.
Chris and Annie.
Back at the apartment, we got the munchies and opened up a can of cranberry sauce and some Oreos.
I offered Chris twenty bucks if he could finish the rest of the can of cranberry sauce (about 2/3 left) in less than two minutes without using utensils.
Luca wants in on this situation.
Chris finishes the cranberry sauce….five minutes later. Pussy.
After a few week hiatus, I returned to Babel on Thursday night last week. I was expecting a slower night on account of the holidays, but it was surprisingly happenin.
The bartender holding the simian dick in a box.
Wha?
“Play better music Hey Mr. DJ!”
What is going on here…
“Are you in?”
Hmmm, I should look more cheerful in photos…
OHhhh, Blue Steele in the hizouze. I don’t know what even means.
L tryin to get up on it. Haha.
It’s the law!
So former President and Nixon pardoner Gerald Ford passed away and the effect this had on me was…zero. None. Zip. Nadda. This is not to say, I don’t feel a sense of sympathy for his family and friends, because I do, however my raw emtional and intellectual indifference to his passing struck me as more interesting than his actual death. I suspect that many people’s reaction was probably, “He was alive? I thought he was already dead.”
Anyway, I’m no Patch Adams, but supposedly laughter is the best medicine, says the old adage. Sooo if you are finding yourself going into deep depression at the death of Mr. Ford, I hope this prescient sketch from an old SNL skit will help pull you out of that presidential funk.
There’s a cute fish and chips British restaurants a few blocks from my apartment. Along with the the fried battered fish filets and the accompany fries, they also serve various mashers and pies and Indian food as well. For an appetizer, before my order of fish and chips, I requested the “Fried Pizza” which looks and tastes exactly as it sounds. They take a slice of cheese pizza and deep fry it. It should come with a health notice however, warning of heart attacks.
There’s only an hour left here on the East Coast, but it’s never too late to wish everyone–or at least my five readers here–a very merry christmas, so: Merry Christmas, ya’ll!
More photos from Slate.
Britney and her classy snatch would like to wish you a happy holiday weekend. What’s that you say? It’s only Thursday? Well, I have Thursday and Friday off so the weekend starts now, bitch.
Today, on my way back to the office from lunch, I walked past Giovanni Ribisi.
That is all.
Sorry Nicole, no photo.
