there's nothing wrong with letting the babies know that you're money and you're ready to party...

Okay, it's time for my last two-week bender in NYC. Women, lock your doors. Fathers, keep your teenage daughters at home. The Pussy Posse is coming to town.

I want to invite anyone that I hang out with to come throw down with us in our hometown one more time before I move to London and have to become a grown-up. I'm talking sex with strippers in the back of a taxi, lying in gutters and puking after being thrown out of bars, and waking up in jail with no memory of why you're there. I plan on recklessly endangering my safety and the safety of others, and if you are cool, you are welcome to join us. But let me make this clear: NO GROUPIES. If you're some frat boy from BU that I hung out with once in college because I thought you and your friends were pretty cool (read: you worshipped me), or if you slept with Michael and he never called you but you know that's just because he was scared of his feelings and you still chase him all over the city, or if you bought us a round of shots because we let you play with our Breathalizer at some bar in the Village and thought we were serious when we said we'd hagn out again, YOU ARE NOT INVITED. This is legitimate friends ONLY.

Double Down's apartment in Tribeca on August 10. Pre-game starts around 11. No, you cannot stay there.