tasty · bits

I attended a party this weekend that was made festive by wonderful people and wonderful food.  Of course it is not a party until someone gets naked (this reminds me of the days in college where the cool people could never get anyone naked and the academics couldn't get me and a few others to keep our clothes on).  Unlike most college students, I did not do a significant amount of drinking in college.  But no one would know the difference because often I was the first one in my birthday suit and the encouragement for others to join in the excitement of the unwrapping. 

While no one got completely naked at this party, the party did make a turn when we started taking photos of our naked parts hidden beneath our clothing and sharing them with the room.  Then we brought the party to the empty Brooklyn subway platforms where people did get naked.

Hopefully we did not truly scare away our hostess' more conservative and errr, work friends.  Regardless, when we started to take photos of our wobbly bits under our clothing, everyone, including the more conservative types, found their way into the living room where all the R action was happening.  The XXX action didn't happen until we reached the comfort of the subway platform were there was an ample amount of graffiti and tagging that happened on various body parts.

But alas, what happens in Brooklyn...

Brooklyn is like another country.  It is quiet, the air smells nice, and there are these green things that people call trees.  Many of these trees were beginning to bloom and in anticipation of the deluge that would be dropped onto NYC, there was complete silence everywhere that we turned, an eerie silence before the storm.  It was the creepy kind of silence that emphasized only our footsteps.  It was like a silly horror film.  With all the debauchery on the train platform I was expecting Freddy or Jason to jump out of the tunnel.  Fortunately the guy with the black hoodie from Kontrol did not reveal himself.  We all made it safely to another bar in the east Village, where tales of the Brooklyn adventure were told and retold.  We finished off the evening watching drunk girls dance on the bar with the stripper pole with their panties in hand and drinking 2 dollar Pabst Blue Ribbon.

Like I said, nothing says party like nudity can.  Hooray for birthdays and all the gifts to unwrap.