Who Says Celebrating Christmas has to Actually Involve Christmas?

We had our annual work-sponsored Christmas celebration today - meaning we got to get off early in order to make asses of ourselves, all on the company dollar.

P.S. Despite all their anal planning and 400,000 e-mails about parking regulations and driving, even THEY couldn't figure out how to circumvent the LAPD closing off one of the roads in their direction. I find myself eternally prideful of actually arriving at the correct location without getting mugged and/or ending up in Compton.

Christmas for the company comes in the form of BOWLING. Bowling and gourmet pizza and build-your-own-burgers on crappy buns, with a constant stream of onion rings and fries and chick-o-sticks supplied by the hottie mini-skirt waitresses that only exist so you believe in Tila Tequila. Unfortunately, our team bowled in the second round, so everyone was already tipsy by the time they got to their lanes and didn't care about bowling anymore. Myself included.

However, this was the best bowling in the whole world. Who can forget my boss, a keenly intelligent woman with the voice of Capt. Janeway, talking crap about everyone with sailor mouth, and then proceeding to hurl herself down the bowling lane head first and sliding on her belly halfway, then crawling back up on her hands and knees and getting up to re-start dancing to Michael Jackson pumping through the speakers, still hurling epithets. Or her dancing in front of ALL the lanes with her little fish-wiggle dance, only to come back and still not hit a pin.

Or the tiny tiny gay man who sang Shania Twain's "Damn, I Feel Like a Woman" at the karaoke machine? Or the Director of Production running around like a 21 year-old on her birthday, dancing and shaking her "groove thing(s)" at everything with my best work friend, who was wearing a pink tutu and striped 70's knee socks. Good times, good times.

It's just too bad I didn't win a raffle prize. They raffled a 32" LCD flat screen TV. That would have been SWEET!! I consumed many alcohol and still didn't get very tipsy - alcohol tolerance be damned, I'd rather be a cheap date any day. I though about karaoke-ing but was too late due to the second round of bowling. I screamed so much that I feel like I just smoked a cigarette all for the low low price of free. Not a bad Christmas party - the only appearance of Christmas, as hinted by the title, was the raffles were called out by a hairy balding man in a santa suit, with a sexy Mrs. Santa handing them out.