Hollywood and I hosted our first annual white elephant party at our house last night. And what a party. Cider was drunk. Gifts were opened, then stolen, then stolen again. Calories were imbibed. A good time was had by all. One of the most popular presents was this tee-shirt, which is of questionable taste. Actually, there's not even any question. The other popular presents included a giant mask, a calendar of bulls, and a bra made of coconut shells (we're still waiting for pictures of that one being modeled, Trent). The youngest guest in attendance was Ryan, age 1. The tallest was Andrew, height 6'5". The smartest (by a considerable margin) was Brad, my once and current co-worker, who braved the 405 on a Saturday night with his lovely girlfriend, Margaret, to attend. Pixie, the angel pixie elf fairy princess of the night, who of late has borne an unfortunate resemblence to Chucky, slept through the whole thing with nary a whimper, bless her little soul.
Update: Brad has objected to my referring to him as the smartest, particularly in the presence of a future doctor, Angela. So I amend my remarks as follows: Brad was one of the twenty smartest people at the party.