So as most of you know, tonight’s our Inappropriate Office Party. We tried to go rule-free, but since you people can’t be trusted anymore, we reflected on former mishaps and decided to lay out some basic ground rules:
1. No propane tanks.
2. No vaping.
3. Access to lasagna tray is not determined by the winner of a slap-off.
4. Steampunks: Our dirigible parking is limited. Call for details.
5. No Nicholas Cage Body Suits, you creeps.
seriously why would anyone
6. No cupping of one another’s genitals, no matter how fervent the desire of both parties.
7. No recruiting others into pyramid schemes.
8. You have to wear some kind of pants or skirt. A long trenchcoat is unacceptable.
9. Anyone uttering the phrase “You know what? I’d like to go see Kid Rock in concert” will be immediately ejected.
10. No mention, ever, by anyone, of the song “Dominic the Italian Christmas Donkey.” I’M SERIOUS.
(Obviously we’re kidding. The only rules are no drugs, no ukeleles, no accordians, no harmonicas, no other hipster instruments, no one under 21, no Little Drummer Boy, no doing anything douchey, and no actual live clams or goats.)
What the hell am I going to do with a limo full of goats now?
I know one 20 year old accordion playing clam who’s going to be pissed.
There’s just no good ways to have fun anymore. Everything is too regulated. FREEDOM!!!
What the hell am i going to do with a limo full of genitals now?
Next party: Clams on the half shell, dammit! Interpret as you see fit.
Sorry I missed it.