Weekend recap:
- Gingerbread House inhabitants had a fine 48-hr run...bucket lists and cookie crumbs.
- The Office Cult...we need tattoos.
Allow me to elaborate:
It's not really a bucket list. More like a checklist of the 7 Deadly Sins. At any rate. The Office cult is pretty established in The City. Rooted so deep in the underground, such a well kept secret...essentially anyone who asks "Oh, so where do you work?" has no flippin' clue who we are, what The Office is, or what we do. Yet you can't go anywhere without seeing another member of the secret society.
People-watching on Barbie Dream Porch? Spot the VoiceOverGuy from Production pushing his kid in a stroller. Run around Cobbs Hill? Avoid Hanks as she comes barreling towards you from the reservoir. Show up at O'Cals downtown? And the entourage is waiting.
But it's good that we have each other. Otherwise, HookerJones would have tried hitting on her Gym Boy. Thank goodness Nealon put the kabosh on that one. Although, he was a little late for the pic of J-woww's muck out...aka facial assault...but hopefully by this time next week there'll be a solid still-frame of a make out massacring. Sa-weeeet.
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