Saturday night was Matthew's official birthday party. Matthew came up with the theme, or more specifically, the title. The theme was all over the place in terms of costumes, but I'll get to that in a minute.

Unfortunately, only about half of the people who came to the party got the Shakespeare/Steinbeck reference. I was asking people all night, "Do you get it, the title?" Most people gave a piss poor performance.



For this one, we reconfigured the apartment to make room for maximum dance floor area. Then, in keeping up with the theme, we draped sheets from the partition between kitchen and living room, thus making a tent.





This instilled in people a sense of obligation, so, for a while there, everyone was just sort of crammed in the kitchen and out on the porch. Eventually, everyone commenced the dancin', so, problem solved.



Also, you'll notice Stefania at the top of the stairs looking like JFK Jr. about to salute his father's coffin as it goes by on parade.



In terms of costumes, I think Trent and Viviana were our winners; but there were some other interesting ones.

Eoghen, Conor, and Adam came as the varying stages of gayitude.



Stage 1: Glitter face.



Stage 2: Colored Eyeliner.



Stage 3: Adam!



Rollie came as a New York City paper boy from the 1920's.



Matt dressed up as one of Suleiman The Magnificent's guards. At least, that's what I said.



Rod was a rave baby.



Delia and Caroline were dressed to a T, and Caroline was sporting some pimp ass red cowboy boots.



And, of course, Richard was Richard III.



Chandler came as a guy who had his pants hiked-up really far.









Sean, Mark, Jack, and R.C. came as Sean, Mark, Jack, and R.C.



Originally, I had a wig and purple shades. According to Matt, I looked like the bassist for Ratt. Anyway, the wig was getting in my way, so I lost it pretty early.



Even Austin showed up for this one.

Okay, question:



The world may never know.

The party got started right with a surprisingly inclusive disco mix by Conor. He had Michael Jackson, KC & The Sunshine Band, and even Thelma Houston. I was very impressed. Even more impressive was the fact that I was spared hearing Daft Punk even once that night. Thanks to everyone for their consideration.

















































The dancing was sporadic, but that shit was pretty heated.



Chandler assured everybody that he wouldn't be leaving any time soon.



Chandler in the VIP Room.





In regards to these pictures, I remember saying something along the lines of: "If Conor and Chandler ever die together in a plane crash, these are gonna be on the pamphlet at the funeral!"



Trent preaches the word of our dark lord.



































Eventually, this disco ball dropped. Conor, doing what any European in the same situation would do, immediately began playing soccer with it.



The next morning there was some blood on the disco ball. It might've been Rollie's, or maybe that's just his dimples on his thumb.



Richard put it the best when he said: "Eventually the night gets to a point where all the pictures are just people flicking off the camera."



Fin.

Oh, yeah:



Thanks to Dr. Rock for the idea. That's Alex, by the way, he's my boss.