“I’d have gone home with you tonight, but you were too drunk. Maybe coffee next week?” Yes, the “Nightmare On Montague” ended on just that immaculate note Saturday. As assured, our “grown-up frat party,” where booze flowed by the gallon, delivered all that we hoped for: Bacchus was in the house, and damn proud. (Click on image to the left for a cute lil' collage.)
We packed some 80 warm bodies into our humble abode—with only one major casualty. Poor “M" [not her real initial]
was our single fall-down drunk (actually, thanks to the kindness of strangers, she merely wobbled). At evening’s end, when we found a leftover purse on the bed and tried to figure out who it belonged to, we found the above text message on her cell phone. And yes, it did belong to “M,” bless her heart.Otherwise, the dazzlingly eclectic crowd of
all ages, persuasions and levels of acquaintance-ship... all of whom were wildly attractive... was shockingly well behaved, to our chagrin. For god’s sake, even I was a model citizen; over the course of Party No. 8—which started by 8 p.m. and wrapped at 5:15 a.m.—I 
indulged in a mere three gins and a single Goldschlager shot. I hardly knew me.At the end of the event, we garnered one broken bracelet, two umbrellas, a nice booty of assorted gift wine and a crap-load of PBR. If you were present Saturday, thank you! We adored having you. If you weren’t, for shame. You missed one fine time.
Enjoy the picolas... all 90 of them! (Thank god for all of that leftover red wine while I spend two hours posting all this shit.)
Writing caps for all of these photos would take the rest of my life (and this weary body only has so much time left, cool cats). But I must make mention of our wondrously able mixologist Patty, who delivered, as always.
...And this one... consummate. Ms. Molly (whose brilliant blog makes mine sound infantile) on the left, with an approving Lisa on the right.
courtesy of The Smoking Nun Blog by Chuck Taylor
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