Well, that's how the night ended. Let's see how it started.
Saturday night we celebrated
Chandler's birthday over at
Caroline's house.
Trent came prepared. He was rockin' two fake eyelids on one eye, a jock strap, a bowler/derby hat, and a pair of boots purchased at Hot Topic for $75. That's a little pricey for detached irony, but that's just me.
Look, I'm gonna keep this as short on words as possible. If you were there, you know what happened. If you weren't, just know this: For only the second time in my life I reached a point where I was too drunk to fish.
Richard goes down on a cane, and then Chandler.
Caroline is: DJ Debardeleben!
Adam is: A Sexual Predator!
I finally got
old whatserface's picture on the blog. Ha, I win!
We even had some of the "mySpace kidz" show up at the throwdown. Well, technically they were coming to the apartment below us, but we accosted and photographed them anyway.
Rivers, Caroline, painting.
Eoghen had a jolly good time.
I remember telling Mark that "whiskey's harder to beat", over and over.
For the two of you that don't get the reference, I'm doing you a favor:
Drive-By Truckers- "
Women Without Whiskey"
This picture looks like it could be the inside art for the latest album by an electronic emo band from Edison, New Jersey called The Shelves.
This is also the last picture I took before I blacked out.
...yeah.
It's not that I fell asleep, so much is that I lost visual. I basically became a blind, paraplegic for the next couple of minutes.
During this time, Trent took my camera out of my pocket, and took some pictures. However, since he didn't ask if he could use the camera, and since I have no basis for explanations of the photos, I deleted them.
Sorry, buddy.