While it would usually take wild horses to drag me to the upper east side (or a small bottle of Stolichnaya), I managed to make the trip up on Saturday night for Cristin's birthday bash.
We started at her place, where I decided to rack up a few extra hell points.
While watching Team America...
Emily: That puppet really looks like Peter Jennings!
Zander: Yeah, but like, without the cancer.
While coming up with alternate names for Jordan's Cheesepocalypse...
Jordan: Cheese-oshima!
Jordan: The Bay of Cheese Invasion!
Zander: Cheese/11!
Jordan: Dude, you're totally going to hell.
Zander: Yeah.
Jordan: See you there.
Eventually we made it to Brother Jimmy's and met up with all of Cristin's awesome friends. Unfortunately, Cristin was being practical and paced herself with the drinks. I'm personally a strong believer that your birthday isn't complete until you've vomited on a baby koala or something equally fantastic, but hey, to each their own.
Thankfully for everyone, I managed to make up for it by being my usual obnoxious self, regaling fellow party-goers with my arsenal of racist and dead baby jokes (whether they wanted to hear them or not) and generally stumbling around the bar like a complete ass. And I only had to be talked to by security ONCE! Now that's a successful night.
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