Save the date, or something
Okay, so that nice girl who puts on them there blog and pony shows over at the Bowery Poetry Club decided that if she was gonna do a show about boozin', she best call in some Subject Matter Experts.
Needless to say, I, along with Dan Renzi, Emily Epstein, Derek Hartley, and Ed Hamilton happily (okay, drunkenly) accepted her invitation.
Needless to say, I, along with Dan Renzi, Emily Epstein, Derek Hartley, and Ed Hamilton happily (okay, drunkenly) accepted her invitation.
Since this blessed event takes place the day after my birthday, we'll be drinking (surprise!) afterwards at some shitty joint over there in the East Village somewheres. The $7 you pay for the show absolves you from your obligation to buy me a birthday drink. Everybody wins!
Also, if you have any good stories about me being drunk that I may not remember too clearly...and I'm sure many of you do...email me, as most of the material I'm working on is, uh...a tad gappy at present. (Scotch is bad for you, kids! Just say no!) Thanks.
posted by Helen the Felon at 12:59 PM
8 Comments:
I'll be there!
Are you allowed to make one or more stories into a composite?
I think that the night we were trapped at Hi-Fi all night on your birthday during the transit strike could make a good backdrop to other stories.
Damn you! I'll be out of town.
You'd better videotape this thingy for posterity, missy my.
Break a leg - and make sure you're too drunk to feel it!
You'd better videotape this thingy for posterity, missy my.
Yes, please have someone toss up this up on YouTube so those of us halfway across the country can revel in your booze-haggery along with you.
I know I probably have many funny moments that involve your inebriation, but I killed all those brain cells.
I only remember 'retards do it gooder' and old customer service stuff.
I play detective the next morning and try to piece together what happened, except once when I woke up in a different cky.
This will be so much fun.
I hate being trapped in the Wretched Little City during the week. I'll miss being in the front row, trying to belt out something from "Annie" and then passing out at your feet while you're still testing the microphone to see if it's working.
Your Devoted and Reverend Famboy T
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