Well, since all I seem to be doing lately is going to office parties, we’ll make “parties” this week’s theme.
Rubbermaids
Holly munched on crudités as she watched the hostess unpack her wares. She stared at what she was seeing, unbelieving. All different lengths, widths, but only two colors. The hostess handed her one of a medium size and girth. She choked on a carrot.
“I thought this was a tupperware party!”
Nikolai hid from the enforcers behind the locked door of the abandoned warehouse. Once he heard the footsteps run off in the distance, he began to weep. This was supposed to be a revolution FOR the people, not this Communist dictatorship. He cursed the day he joined the Democratic party.
She awoke with a start. With throbbing head and aching body, she dragged herself off the floor. Looking around she saw several other people scattered around on the floor, passed out/asleep, alcohol bottles littering the floor. Wow! Who knew that turning 36 would have elicited such a GREAT frigginí party?
(The party is tomorrow, by the way! You should meet us at Buca!)
She had intended to tell him about her appointment with the lawyer in a more private setting. Somehow, while waiting for their table, it just slipped out.
“So, you are leaving.”
His calm response wounded her.
“Grimsly, party of two!” The hostess announced. They followed her silently to the table.
excellent job kids!
thomas, so sneaky of you to include a dig at democrats. don’t worry, comrade, when we get you into the party, you WILL enjoy yourself. YES YOU WILL!!
zanie – are you going to be at the new pope table? with benedict? you have to tell me how scary it is. i’d love to show up at buca and eat all your lemon chicken, but i have a party of my own to attend. HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!
christine – you are my hero. yay you for using “party” in a way i never even thought of. that’s my favorite thing about picking a theme – watching what people do with it. can’t wait to start work on our phone sex book!
Nope, not dining with Pope Scary, I mean Benedict. Only a small party of 6 tomorrow. I’m going to go get cupcakes tomorrow a.m.! Yummy!!
In the corner he stood, the loner once again. Observing the manipulation and brutality before him, he began to ponder the real reason he was at the party. As the multitude of pushes and spilt drinks devoured him, he stood before the crowd and proclaimed, “this is how the west was won, and how our world was lost.”
After an hour outside, my dog was still not scratching at the door. Worried, I went outside only to find myself surrounded by dogs in various positions optimal for a dog’s greatest pleasure.
Chagrined, disgusted, I looked at my dog, Mr. Ringleader:
“I thought I told you to ‘GO POTTY!'”
“Party at Da Big House!” exclaimed the poster on the wall behind the drug dealer. Faint recollections were triggered as I slipped the Benjamin to the outstretched hand.
Suddenly, my faced is smashed against the poster, arms twisted back. “Oh, I recognize that place now … Cook County Jail”. Smartass cops.
zanie, you must check out pope scary for me. see if he is as disturbing to eat in front of. i bet his eyes follow you wherever you sit. i’m sure the people at the pope table won’t mind if you sit down with them for a minute.
mark.. i think i went to that party, it was a frat party, huh? 😉
stacey, that made me laugh out loud. “go POTTY!”
jack, i certainly hope that is not autobiographical, young man. and, for safety sake, you should always try to break your benjamins down to jacksons before buying your drugs.
She was only thirteen, scared like a rabbit. Her wild eyes showed she had no understanding of what was going on. As they prepared the rough hewn stones in accordance with their “ancient and beautiful” culture, I stormed out summoning assistance, saying, “I won’t be party to female genital mutilation!”