“Um, that’s a police officer.”

House party?  Are you sure you wanna do that with us?  Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

It was the start of an upsettingly rainy weekend, but since when has that even stopped us from partying?  I bus-and-trained it over to the Almost East Side, past the Mercedes in the parking lot of the Projects (huh?) to MichHELLe’s place.  Apparently, MicHELLe had gotten a new job, and her roommate had gotten a job (I really wish I could afford a newly renovated apartment in the double digits with no job… are Branjolina still considering adoption?).  And I’m always down to celebrate someone’s good fortune (read: drink). 

I arrived a bit before Urban Sprawl, who had brought  a 1.75 L of vodka.  But don't think for a second she didn't have the flask and mini bottles in her pockets.  Do you guys remember Don Juan from San Juan (you may have to scroll waaaaay down to see him mentioned in an entry)?  He actually showed up, and I almost didn’t recognize him.  And speaking of ghosts, TTT showed up.  You mean TTT from the LA adventure?  TTT that’s been in New York for 2 months and hasn’t shown his face or said/texted a word since he got here? Yup, that TTT.  Well damn! 

Don Juan had brought along one of his friends… another black ‘girl’.  Don’t worry, I was totally nice!  We connected immediately over music (mostly learning dances to popular songs, of which she knew significantly more than I).  Turns out the bitch can sang, too.  Once I saw her actually get started, I had no doubt this was a Broadway Queen.  Of course, we harmonized (love it!).  Timon (what?  She’s black and a performer… and she knows Simba.. obvi, she’s been in The Lion King) seemed like a keeper. 

“Hey, guys.  Could you take your shoes off?  Our downstairs neighbor has a baby…”  Oh wow.  Shouldn’t they be upstate somewhere with that?  Like Westchester?

I’m having a grand old time mixing myself drinks.  Danity Kane comes on, and I do my dance.  Timon takes over DJ duty, which rocks b/c we have similar music tastes.  I figure wherever we go after this is going to be an absolut(e) riot with the whole Crew, and this is the perfect warm-up.  I look at the kitchen counter, and Urban Sprawl’s 1.75 L of vodka’s gone.  Same with the other vodka handle.  I think there might be tequila left, and I'm definitely not going there.  Mm, maybe it’s time to go.

A sampling of the responses to my suggestion of going to No Parking:

“Nah, I don’t really feel like going to No Parking tonight.”

“Are you really going there?”

“Yeah, I know I said I’d go, but I don’t think I’m gonna make it.”

Well fine!  I’m ditching.  I hopped in a cab uptown, and about halfway there, I got a call from Freak-Ho, who sounded pretty damn wasted, asking if the party was still going on.  You really wanna crash a house party at 2:30am?  Good luck with that. 

2:40am

MicHELLE: “Who invited her!”

Roommate: “Um, that’s a police officer.”

Remember: when D. Kareem leaves, the party is over.

Saturday was Bronx Newbie’s party at his new place.  I had to chuckle when he specified on the invite that there was “no theme beyond housewarming” and encouraged people to bring “food.”

The Ivy League Crew decided that the night needed to include Pieces, so we took the D train from the Bronx to the Village.  Luckily we brought a couple of Gatorade bottoms, uh, bottles for the ride.

It was a long, loud trip.  And as always, there was pole dancing.  Once we got there, we found that Pieces was having a White-Trash party that was brilliantly decorated!  

 Is that Freak-Ho on stage?  How did she get here?!

Hey, go go, did she mention she has a boyfriend (also with Tall Skinny White Boy-Syndrome)?  Yeah.

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