SATURDAY, DECEMBER 5, 2009…
NIGHTMARE ON MONTAGUE… and YOU ARE INVITED!!!
Cool cats, please mark your calendars… and let’s get this party started
Saturday, December 5 is:
* A good month following Halloween… wow, no pesky costumes!
* Post-Thanksgiving… you don’t have to include your family!
* Christmas… naw, too soon. You don’t gotta bring a tree ornament!
* Hanukah? Bite me. Christians, Muslims and agnostics invited!
Please join us for VIP entrance to the NIGHTMARE ON MONTAGUE… Details, please:
THE EVENT: If you've been here before, you know this as the fall event not to be missed, a bash where you can see ALL those folks that you like pretty much, but not enough to insist on one-to-one drinks or dinner. See how easy we’re making it for you?
WHO: You, your best pals (please feel free to bring), lovers and one-night stands (TBA!); hosts and your dearest friends Chuck Taylor & Ayhan Sahin; our adorable, proactive bartender Patrick; cousin Claude and his really funny rubber buck teeth; lots of gorgeous strangers wearing revealing outfits; AND the next great love of your life. Oh, and Sarah Palin is scheduled to announce her candidacy for NYC Mayor Bloomberg’s fourth term (she’s a might confused, but she promised to bring Alaskan moonshine and her personal collection of naked Levi Johnston pics, so I said okay).
WHEN: For god’s sake I already told you: Saturday, December 5, 8:30 p.m. until the cocks crow.
WHERE: 62 Montague Street, Apt. 2C, Brooklyn Heights, New York City.
HOW: One easy subway stop from Manhattan on the R (Court Street stop), 2/3 (Clark Street), 4/5 (Borough Hall) and A (High Street) trains. You can even drive here if you're rich enough to own a car. Oh, and cabs know us, too.
WHY: Don’t tell anybody else, but we just got an e-mail that a very wealthy elderly lady that lives in Africa wants us to stow her $10 million inheritance safely in the U.S. We’ll be splitting it among our guests. Wow, you’re probably good for at least $900,000—and it’s tax-free.
NIGHTMARE ON MONTAGUE?: We used to toss a little get-together every October, beginning back in 2000. We’re re-theming. Otherwise, it’s the same damn thing: a frat party for grown-ups.
WHAT TO BRING: Sorry, guys, but the recession has hit us like a bulls-eye. So this time around, we ask you to bring whatever hooch you prefer… Yep, it’s kindly BYOB. That said, we’ll provide a pro bartender, potent shots, mixers, juices, soda and gut-filler food. If you want to bring beer, Key Food is a block away (106 Montague), open until midnight. And there’s a liquor/wine store practically next door (78 Montague), which is open until 11 p.m. Also, please bring your digital camera, so we can put all the pieces together on Sunday.
WHAT YOU GET: A slide show on the 50-inch plasma, showing pics from the 2000-2006 parties, so you can finally remember who you went home with! Wigs! Really attractive lighting that will make you look as youthful as you did then! The space-age Starfucker wall! People that talk funny in other languages! Old friends! New friends! Okay, isn’t that enough? Just come, already, so I can stop using these heinous exclamation marks.
LOOKING BACK… REMEMBER THE GOOD TIMES @ The Annual Party
Year 1, September 23, 2000
Chuck purchases an apartment in May in Brooklyn Heights, NYC; celebration ensues four months later. Your host spends weeks making CDs for the party—quaint now in the iPod era. Goldschlager turns the event into a Bacchus-worthy toss-up, complete with public shagging on the fire escape. Nine years later, still proud of that. 80+ attend, mayhem ensues until 5 a.m. An annual event is inevitably hatched.
Year 2, September 22, 2001
Just 11 days after September 11, a decision is made
that New York needs to party. The gala is more somber in tone, much discussion about “important matters.” Many head to the renowned Brooklyn Heights Promenade 20 steps away, to look upon the tragic gaping hole on the lower Manhattan skyline. Nobody indulges in Goldschlager. Cheese puffs make their successful debut. Camaraderie never felt better.
Year 3, September 28, 2002
Chuck turns 40, leprechauns dance, we host two drag queens, seven people spend the night in the living room, four of them on the sofa bed—one never identified in the post-mortem. Strangers kiss in private corners. A return to form. Body count: 110.
Year 4, October 4, 2003
J-Lo calls, saying she is so over Ben and wants a husband. Meets Marc Anthony along the Starfucker Wall. Bob Hope declines—then dies, as a result. Chuck & Ayhan purchase their first iPod, meaning there’s enough music to party until 2004. Dawn arrives. Eye drops are exchanged like Xanax.
Year 5, October 16, 2004
ABBA reunites for one night only and everyone poses for pictures and gets autographs. Benny chokes on a cheese puff, but giggles about it afterward. Each guest makes +/-$5,000 in subsequent Ebay sales. Chuck wears a black shirt with imprinted roses that Ayhan says looks like his mother’s tablecloth. He never wears it again. Further details are fuzzy. Cheese balls are found behind the furniture as late as Christmas.
Year 6, October 15, 2005
We host a small, private cocktail party that you weren’t invited to, because you tend to chew with your mouth open and spit a little when you talk with enthuse. Turkey’s biggest superstar, Sezen Aksu—the Madonna of the nation—sits on our sofa and Ayhan gets all shy. We chose not to serve cheese balls. But, boy, she sucked down those cosmos.
Year 7, October 14, 2006
The party is re-themed as “The Devil Wears Target.” It has a decidedly global presence, with stunningly good-looking visitors from numerous European nations. Video is shot for the first time (and we subsequently collect $$$$ in blackmail payoffs). The turnout surpasses 2002, with 118. Chuck reasons that he is loved. Our year-long toothless 4.5-pound senior rescue doggie, Kirby, is passed from patron to patron, and she attempts to gum a cheese ball, which is as big as her head.
2007: Chuck frets that no one loves him. Ayhan vacations in San Juan. Cheese balls are considered passé as an “early millennium” phenom.
2008: Chuck decides he doesn’t like anybody. Instead of hosting a party, he spends $15,000 renovating the bathroom.
And now… Year 9… Chuck’s meds are working again! Cheese balls are timeless, and already in da house. We love you and you love us! Come back and stay. Join us, won’t you?