Bunt BBQ Part II: Westfield Edition
This past Saturday, the magnanimous Ivan Cordero hosted a party at his Montgomery Street apartment in Westfield, thoughtfully named Bunt BBQ Part II. He even had the foresight to get a keg! There weren’t a super-super lot of people, so the keg was sadly underused. Well, that’s not true; a few people busted their keg-stand cherry. (Sorry to be so vulgar, but I mean, that’s what happened. I’m not gonna sugar-coat it.)
This was a casual, low-key affair. Unlike the first Bunt BBQ, there were no closeted emotions, no stifled urges. [Well, maybe a few. – Angela]
Besides Bunt girls, the North Adams contingent included Emma Lewis – who was probably having fun until Jackie, with whom she was riding, made her leave – and Brandie Cancro, who was up for a party somewhere else but made an appearance at Ivan’s. And what an appearance it was.
No, she was cute. Uh but she didn’t remember coming to the party the next day, which is .. somewhat alarming. Ahh who are we kidding? That’s our Brandie!
As you can see from the photo at top, the only real hitch in the night was that my pigtails got kind of messed up. And Angie and I were drunk when we tried to fix them. Oh, yeah, and Angela rolled her ankle.
She is not nearly as athletic as I am. She didn’t notice a downstep off a ledge – a drop of about a foot? (ehh, six inches. – angela) – and screwed her ankle up. From three floors up, we could hear a faint cry: “Jon .. Jonnnn … *muffled sob* … ” You get the idea. We discovered her lying in a heap amid the contents of her purse and some foliage. No, it was cute. She was crippled for .. well, she’s still hopping around.
The next morning, Angie’s BF Jon made us a superior breakfast: eggs (eggs with tomatoes, for me) and maple bacon. Mmm .. my hoodie still smells like sweet syrup.
O god, and he made us poutine at like 3 a.m. According to answers.com, poutine is “The ultimate in French-Canadian junk food … a mélange of warm french fries, topped with fresh cheese curds, then smothered with gravy. The subject of the gravy is widely debated-some say it should be beef, others declare chicken gravy is the only way to go, and still others proclaim a spicy barbecue sauce is the answer. This Québécois favorite is consumed while hot with a fork.”
I do not do not do not like gravy, so I was robbed of this treat. Why ruin french fries (probably my third favorite food after tomatoes and TNS) with gravy? [Yea, Alicia didn’t eat it and it was the lamest thing ever. Like that time she wouldn’t smoke the hookah. Wtf? – Angela.]
The most important thing that readers should take away from this post is that not only am I a Rock-Paper-Scissors champion, but I’m also alarmingly good at flip cup. There are some serious, serious pictures of me dominating in both sports, but it may be a while before I get ahold of them for the site.
No, I definitely have no idea what Matt is doing in this photo. Lauren, however, is clearly right in the middle of a keg stand.