When I'm on my deathbed, one thing is for certain: I will die knowing that I did the weekend of September 21, 2007 totally balls-out awesome.
I started on Friday meeting my friend Kevin, whom I haven't seen in eons, down in Little Italy for the Feast of San Genarro. I don't know what exactly the Feast is for, but based on what I saw it's all about eating food that is really really really really bad for you. Like fried Oreos.
Then I got really drunk on a roof, which I haven't done in a long time. I also was hitting on a girl and decided to finally use the "I have a TV show" line, only to find out that 1. she knew that and 2. so did her boyfriend, who was some sort of muscleman.
Yesterday I saw that Jesse James movie. I think it's called "Brad Pitt Gets Pwned" or something. It was great though and I recommend it. The acting and cinematography are amazing and help you forget that the score is AWFUL.
Then after that we went to a pool party! There's some hotel in Midtown that lets you just come swim, and they have a swim-up bar! It was AMAZING. They had this annoying lifeguard that wouldn't let us have chicken fights, and the drinks are WAY too expensive, but besides that it was really awesome. I don't know why I never thought of going to this place before. You'd think I'd have put together the "wet half-naked women + booze = great" thing before, but hey, I'm a little slow on the uptake. Halfway through the evening, our party of comedians (pasty, neurotic and out of shape nerds that didn't know how to handle seeing their female friends' wet bodies) was taken over by what appeared to be a party consisting of 50 Cent music video extras (gorgeous black women and dudes with giant muscles). Not to be a dirty old man, but one of the women had a butt that could probably cure cancer, poverty, pollution, and get "Arrested Development" back on the air. Everyone, guys and girls, were staring at this amazing gluteal phenomenon, and it went past lechery to where we were really just trying to figure out how it was possible. We were staring at her ass in the name of science. Anyways, they knew how to party, and the lifeguard let them do chicken fights! Hot girls have the best lives. And boobs.
Famous mime Marcel Marceau died today. I want to pay tribute to him somehow but I think the traditional "moment of silence" will just feel petty and insignificant in this case.