Last Saturday, my friend Gillian invited a few of us over to help her put up her Christmas tree. Not just any tree, a white tree, with over 1000 pink lights, yards of pink tulle, dozens of disco balls of assorted sizes, shiny glass balls in shades of pink, and one pink and white poodle with a fluffy collar and eyelashes, wearing flip-flops (complements of ME!)
Well, due to a series of unfortunate events, the tree didn't even see the light of day (night) until about 9:00. In the mix was a large ring of keys, a pissed off black woman with a couple hammers, a pizza, and a locksmith. The boxes and bags were finally rescued, and then Patrick's coworker Noelle arrived, all cheery and stuff. The gals got to work on the tree, Patrick and I found the angel. Not just any angel - a fiber-optic monstrosity with one hand that appeared to be gesticulating "yo, bite this!" Or, a hand that wanted to hold a cigarette. So, that's what she got.
And with that, Patrick and I said our goodbyes and went to Jackhammer to enjoy some vodka and laughs.