very soon after, the friends i was expecting arrived. not all at once. and not at all together. drinking ensued as did tactless jokes:
somewhere (in all of the joviality) the band showed up:
then the drunk brit exposed himself, wet all over the bar and performed the most herculean projectile diarama i have ever seen:
he was subsequently invited up on stage to reprise his cameo with the band:
after that, well...we had us a beatle rave. or a bugrant. whichever y'all wanna call it:
except for stan who never raves or rants. he is an island in the sea of chaos:
however, chaos soon reintervened:
women were talking to men, men were listening, drunks kept being drinked, a camera's flash wasn't on, and liaisons erupted like pimples on a cold sore (have no idea who is in this picture, but, shit, it looks sexy, don't it?):
finally, it got bad. everyone was feeling blurry. but still dancing and carrying on as if it was the end of the world...(which it could be, i suppose...if i hadn't just sent $100 to pat robertson to save the souls of the jews and get him to tell God that i really am wealthy and ready to ascend after the Fresno Fair):
and that's what i remember. i do not remember leaving early, because my blood sugar had dropped precipitously. i do not remember waiting at the checkin at lipari's for 5 minutes and then leaving. nor do i remember going to livingstone's and sitting, ordering and waiting for a chicken salad. i don't remember getting up and asking for the chicken salad to be boxed. i didn't know i wouldn't go back to the club to tell people i had to get home and eat NOW! i do remember someone getting home later and asking me what happened and being okay with it.
i got even by kicking her out of bed in my sleep.
update (9:55 pm): yahtzee is a fun game and was just played to christen my oak table.
i'm pretty sure katie cheated. i don't think you're allowed to roll four 2's and a 4 and call it six of a kind the hard way.