The Night I Partied with Epic Meal Time

by Rob Fee

I hate parties.

Every time a light beer or some horrible, rancid body spray runs a commercial showing beautiful, hip people dancing to unnecessarily loud techno music in a crowded basement I think “Wow, that looks like an absolute nightmare.” I’m pretty sure I skipped those years of my life and jumped from 13 to 48. That being said, however, a few weeks ago my friend Jeff was visiting LA and wanted a crazy night of drinking and stupidity.

Since my idea of a wild night is watching Kill Bill Volume 1 AND Volume 2 I asked him for suggestions. It turns out we have mutual friends in the Epic Meal Time guys through Twitter, but none of us had actually hung out together yet. If you aren’t familiar with Epic Meal Time, they’re a group of Canadian friends who prepare foods that I would describe as the polar opposite of healthy. Imagine Rob Dyrdek, but with food instead of stunts.

Jeff texted Harley Morenstein, the face of the group, and made plans to meet up later that night. The following is an account of what took place. It’s a little blurry in spots, but it was one of the most crazy and memorable nights of my life.

9:00 P.M. Jeff and I, along with our good pal Eireann arrive at the address given us by Tyler Lemco, another member of the Epic Meal Time group. Turns out we aren’t meeting at some random apartment or T.G.I. Friday’s, we are meeting at a giant mansion in the Hollywood Hills. Whose mansion you ask? Oh it’s just the former residence of hip hop legend Ludacris. Sure, why not?

9:30 P.M. After meeting everyone in the house, we are given drinks. It looks like what would come out of Shrek if he had a urinary tract infection and, unfortunately enough, tastes like it too. That’s right, a good old Incredible Hulk. One part Hennessy, one part Hpnotiq, 100% horrible. Tyler explains that it’s called The Incredible Hulk because, not only is it green, but after you drink a couple you become violently angry. Yum! I’ll have another!


10:55 p.m. — nobody can remember where the car is parked, what our names are, or–ohhh, wait, we don’t even have a car.

10:00 P.M. Another friend of mine showed up and brought along a designated driver. I don’t remember the DD’s name but he was wearing an overly warm North Face coat. I thought that was a bit much. Settle down North Face guy.

10:05 P.M. I saw my friend and North Face guy for the last time. I’m not sure what happened to them. Are they still there? Should I contact authorities?

11:00 P.M. Harley calls a parade of cabs because apparently we are all going to Sarah’s birthday party at the Roosevelt Hotel. Who is Sarah? I have no clue but I’m going to her party. Happy birthday Sarah!

11:30 P.M. The cabs arrive and we pile in. Our driver seems to hate us so I try to cheer him up by asking about his hobbies, dreams, aspirations, and goals. This does not help. I assume that he never wants to see me again and, honestly, I don’t blame him.

11:45 P.M. We arrive at the Roosevelt Hotel and work our way through the lobby like a herd of adolescent buffalo. I get a text from Eireann that says “I’m going home.” She got stuck in a limo with someone who kept referring to the chauffer as a “chariot.” How do you mix those words up? Is your favorite movie Chauffers of Fire? Eireann’s gone. Jeff is highly intoxicated. I’m looking so good. Almost too good.


Sadly, Claire Danes was not there to fall in love with Rob, but upshot! John Leguizamo wasn’t trying to kill him, either.

Midnight We get to the door for the party and somehow we are all on the list. Like an idiot, I was checking my phone and didn’t go in with the entire group. Awesome. Now I’m stuck in the lobby, everyone I know here is inside, and there’s no way they’re going to notice a text from me. I had to wait for the perfect opportunity or I wasn’t going to get in. Then it happened. Harold Perrineau, who you may know from Lost or Oz, started walking towards the door of the party. Doing what any sensible person would do I said “Harold, hey!” and pretended to be his best friend. He’s a nice enough guy and assumed he knew me from somewhere (he did not) so we walked in together. Who’s going to stop Michael from Lost? Not that security guy. I’m in.

On a side note, I ran into Harold Perrineau a few weeks later at a bar just as karaoke had begun. I said “Hey we met at Sarah’s birthday party at the Roosevelt!” (I still don’t know who Sarah is, for the record) and he confusedly responded “Uh well I was there, so yeah! I guess we did!” Then we sang R. Kelly’s “Remix to Ignition.” I did the lyrics and he did the “toot toots” and “beep beeps.” It was fantastic. Thanks, Sarah!

12:30 A.M. I meet up with Jeff, Tyler, and another member of the Epic Meal Time gang, Josh. They’re talking to this 60-year-old man and they keep hugging him. What on earth happened in the time I was gone? I walk up and Jeff introduces me to this man simply known as “Dad.” Not my dad. Not their dad. Apparently he’s everyone’s dad. Dad pulls us in close and says that he’s very proud of us. Somehow it feels so sincere. Then he downs his scotch and wanders off. I never saw Dad again but he seemed great. Jeff still texts me about him to this day.


“F*** it, dude–let’s go bowling.”

1:00 A.M. We find out that there’s a bowling alley on the other side of the room. I love bowling! There’s only one problem, Jimmy Kimmel and his friends are hogging the bowling alley. So we do what any sensible people would do in that situation; stand behind them awkwardly until they’re done. Eventually Kimmel and his crew file out and we start bowling. There’s even a guy who keeps score for you! That’s his job!

I don’t really remember much about the bowling because everyone kept handing me shots. Jeff told me he had never seen anyone love bowling as much as I loved bowling that night. Good for me.

1:30 A.M. Harley joined us for round 2 of bowling along with his girlfriend Kyla, and YouTube sensation Hannah Hart.


It was a big ol’ internet pigpile of wit and charm.

That’s when my bowling really took off. I was like a man possessed. A man possessed with a demon who was extremely good at bowling. I don’t remember my exact score but I know that a crowd gathered around me in awe. It was like when Pete Rose broke Ty Cobb’s all-time hit record, or every time that Kobayashi ate all of those hot dogs. I may have been hoisted into the air like Henry Rowengartner on the cover of Rookie of the Year but I can’t say that for certain.

2:30 A.M. I am beyond done. I’m exhausted. Jimmy Kimmel left. Michael from Lost is somewhere searching for Walt. The night has to almost be over, right? Nope! Harley says “Hey, lets drink Jameson on the rocks!” I wish I’d done that move on cartoons where they laugh and then toss the drink over their shoulder and no one notices. I didn’t. I drank it. I wish I hadn’t.


Pictured: Wishing I hadn’t drank it.

3:00 A.M. We clear out of the lobby, just as the prophet R. Kelly had predicted, and head up to the top floor to Sarah’s suite. WHO IS SARAH? When we get to the room there’s bottles of Cristal all over the place so we help ourselves. There’s an iPod speaker system and someone said “Let’s hear some music!” I’m on it. You ready for this? Here’s the playlist I broke out:

  • Nelly – “Hot in Herre”
  • Ginuwine – “Pony”
  • Bel Biv DeVoe – “Poison”
  • Blackstreet – “No Diggity”
  • Notorious BIG – “Hypnotize”
  • Ludacris – “Money Maker”

Needless to say I’m just straight up killin it! Cristal is flowin, Biggie Smalls is alive and well, the crowd is lovin it.

Then someone threw up.

We knew that was our cue and filed out into the lobby where the kind staff gladly got us cabs. I took a cab to my friend Pete’s house and woke up the next morning lying on his dog.


The best pillow ever, until it farts.

It was an eventful night to say the least and one that I won’t soon forget. Tyler told me that I did briefly meet Sarah at one point. From his description and what I remember, here’s a sketch of what she looks like but I may be wrong on the hair and eye color:

I may have her confused with a coat rack that I really hit it off with.

I may have her confused with a coat rack that I really hit it off with.


This is the wallpaper in Heaven.

Rob Fee is a writer and comedian best known for writing and telling jokes. You can follow him onTwitter @RobFee to read more of these jokes or go to Del Taco. He’s probably there.

Remember that time we got Epic Meal Time to Apologize for the Global Bacon Shortage? Neither do we–probably because they soaked their apology in enough rye to get a moose blackout drunk.

More from Rob Fee

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

More From Mancave Daily

LISTEN: Sports, Entertainment, Guests, Hilarity
Al's Boring Podcast
Podcasts Galore

Listen Live