Berating Clowns In Minivans

Started a tradition yesterday. Roxbury staff parties. And why not? Good time with good people. Good food and good laughs. I seem to remember hearing stories about cooking horns in rubbing alcohol, singing idiots on school buses, and berating clowns in minivans. Good times.



And the most integral part of this new tradition is a gift giving ritual that goes as such:

The host of the party shall receive a gift, preferably something hilariously ghastly & unequivocally hideous that they could never use or even begin to want to claim as a posession, and that gift shall remain at said party until all guests have vacated the premises at which time party's host shall do what they deem appropriate for previously mention "gift". Example: Burning in effigy, bury in a time capsule in the backyard, re-gifting at a later gathering or possibly to an unsavory family member.

So here's what Laura & I gave Rich & Michelle yesterday.



Isn't it nice? We found it in a dumpster in Lancaster.

And here's Rich saluting it.



You really should have been there. We were all humming Stars & Stripes Forever. It was an odd moment for the party and our country.

Can't wait til next time!