*gir squeal*

My gods, last night was about as much fun as one can have with clothes on.

I got to see Frank for the first time since he left in April, see Jenga and Jason, shook my booty at the Merc, went to a lame party after much hijinks and chaos trying to coordinate two carloads of people on their way to an uncertain destination, laughed at the people at said lame party, went to Dan and Kate's place and had a much better party of our own, watching Invader Zim and Space Ghost and incomprehensible wannabe art-porn. In attendance were Dan, Kate, Steph, Eric, Ash and myself.

Quotes:

(from the horribly lame party that we dropped by)

(anonymous) "My gods, it's the Stepford Ravers."

Rolling Raver Girl: "...What is that smell? It's kind of like pipe tobacco."
Eric, Ash, Dan, Bjorn, all together: "Cloves."
Eric: "Because we're gothy like that. And snooty. And oh so refined, rather, yes. And spooooky. One clove cigarette! Ah-ah-ah-ah!"
Rolling Raver Girl: "Uh... you guys are scary." *runs away*

(after five minutes of my two carloads of people sitting across the room from the ravers in a pile of leather, velvet and PVC and both groups staring at each other)

Bjorn: "So, Ash, you coming with us or staying here?"
Ash: "What the hell do *you* think? Do I look like I only have one brain cell?"

(on the drive back to Dan and Kate's place)

Ash: "...Each of us should have five of those cars. And each car should contain three women..."
Bjorn: "...and that waitress!"

(at Dan and Kate's place)

Steph: "...Oops... I think I just put cheese on the cat."

Space Ghost, on TV: "This must lead to the Council of DOOM!"
Dan: "No, wait. It's the kitchen."

Steph: "We're communicating in the language of 'duh'."

Bjorn: "Mmm. Pet the fish."