The associates and staff get gifts each year, tokens really, for the four partners. Over an afternoon of roast beef and stiff drinks, proper small talk will devolve into inappropriately inebriated fits of hoots and giggles.
Somewhere along the way, the presentation of the presents must be made, and someone, Lorax-like, must speak for the plebes...
And this year, that someone so happens to be me. By the time most of you read this, it will already be over. With luck, they will laugh. With more luck, I will still have a job come next Tuesday.
I think I will try to keep it short.
Are you planning on showing up dressed like that?
ReplyDeleteAt least I can talk about something other than myself.
ReplyDeleteLooks like santa forgot about me.
ReplyDeleteI had a huge row on a site I moderate about this pic. They reckoned it was showing santas testicle but its his thigh...I had to look real close
ReplyDeleteewwwww..
Looks like Santa went on a bit of a binge with the drugs and alcohol I asked for.
ReplyDeleteI anticipate hearing how your night went!
So Jesus Christ. How'd it go? And did you wear your sweater vest so that it gave a Mr. Rogers flavor to the festivities?
ReplyDeleteActually, if you compare that photo with the one of Inog in Mexico, there is a striking similarity.
ReplyDelete