You give me fever!

On Friday night, after spending all day in a bus with Sasha, Monique and I headed out to Absolute Comedy to meet Melissa.

And when I say "meet" Melissa, I mean that in the most literal sense possible. Melissa and I are Internet friends.

We had never met each other before, much less even spoken to one another before. In fact, Melissa and I don't even e-mail or IM one another.

We know each other purely through the blogosphere.

In preparation for an awkward first date, we both seemed to be referencing a back issue of YM magazine, and brought friends as buffers (Monique and Amanda.) I also brought along a handwritten list of "Things to Talk About", y'know, just in case. (It's a shame I can't get away with this sort of behaviour on regular "first dates." Actually, now that I think about it, what's stopping me from bringing a handwritten list of things to talk about on actual dates?)

Regardless, it turns out that I didn't need the list.

(Although I did reference it throughout the night.)

Amanda and Melissa brought us to some basement to sing karoke. I'm not sure who was braver: Monique and I for going into the depths of some mystery basement with strangers we met off the Internet, or Amanda and Melissa for exposing themselves to our horrible singing voices?

Things started out pretty tame.

Actually, that was a lie, they didn't start out tame. They started out something more like this.

Oh, did I mention that my new Internet girlfriend brought me to a gay karoke bar?

Let's just think about this for a second: Two Albertans walk into an Ottawa gay karoke bar with two Islanders that they met on the Internet. . .

It sounds like the start of a really bad joke.

This kid barely appeared old enough to be in the bar. I needed to include this purely for the fresh hickey on his neck, though.

I tried to teach Melissa how to two-step, despite the fact that I two-step about as well as I sing.

Favourite picture of the night, hands-down.

Somehow, I get this feeling that we would be friends in real life.

Jason* (who was responsible for the three shots I took at the end of the night, which led to my ultimate, and most literal downfall), Monique and I.

What's this guy holding? Oh, yah, it's my foot.

Great.

(Three words: Out. Of. Control.)

And then. . .we sang Spice Girls. Which really is a shame, because I can't sing. (And just to clarify, I don't suffer from false modesty. When I say I can't sing, I can't sing. I wish I could offer an apology to everyone who was there to witness this.)

If you want to see more pictures, check out Melissa's blog. (Which by the way, is awesome all the time, not just when I'm feature on it. Hell, it made me want to meet her! Also, thanks to Adrian for technically** introducing us.)

* Word on the street is that Jason also literally carried me out of the bar. So, uh, I guess I can't be too upset about the shots. Thanks, Jason!

**Have I ever mentioned that I love puns?