Gingerbread Office
by Scott Hardie on December 22, 2010
I don't often join in Kelly's craft projects, and it's even rarer for her to join in one of mine. But that's what happened last week when my company held a gingerbread house contest, and Kelly pitched in to help the team that I signed up for.
We decided to make a "north pole branch" of our Sarasota office. We reduced our building down to a 54" model and covered it with candy, frosting, and lights, complete with a gator and bobcat in the back yard.
The prize wasn't as sweet as the last time we won, but it was still nice to be named first place after a lot of hours to assemble it all.
Four Replies to Gingerbread Office
Matthew Preston | December 23, 2010
WOW, just wow! I am beyond impressed.
Matthew Preston | December 23, 2010
And now for my joke response:
You should put the gator on his back because he froze to death.
Jackie Mason | December 24, 2010
[hidden by author request]
Logical Operator
The creator of Funeratic, Scott Hardie, blogs about running this site, losing weight, and other passions including his wife Kelly, his friends, movies, gaming, and Florida. Read more »
Spirit
I've always felt like my life's dream was to quit my job and spend all my time online. I wouldn't only do that, of course – if I won the lottery and quit my job, I'd also travel and take classes and throw parties and do other things – but let's face it, I'd spend a lot of time working on this site and talking to people online. Last night I dreamed I was a ghost, recently passed. Go »More Than Meets the Eye
Paramount is holding a contest in which one lucky fan will have their line of dialogue added to the upcoming Transformers movie, spoken in character by Optimus Prime. (link) I wonder if they'll take my submission: "I want these motherfucking Decepticons off this motherfucking plane!" Go »A Fib
I wish the title was "a fib" as in a lie. But no, it's "A Fib" as in atrial fibrillation. That's a heart condition in which the upper part of your heart doesn't keep a rhythm. Go »R.I.P. Mom
You were so still in your bed when I could finally sit down beside you, a few hours after the facility notified me that you had died. I hadn't seen you be that peaceful in years, your eyes not scanning the room for clues, your hands not turning over each object in front of you for endlessly repeated examination. I whispered to you the most urgent and most precious things I had to say, the secrets and atonements and wishes foremost on my mind. Go »Heart Burn
The recurring pericarditis that I mentioned elsewhere is now believed by my primary-care doctor to be heartburn or possibly an ulcer. The latter explanation is possible I suppose, but I'm skeptical about the former since it feels less like an acidic burning than like a sharp localized lower-chest pain such as a knife wound or bullet wound. Either way, it still keeps occurring every few weeks, it still hurts like a son of a bitch and keeps me awake all night, and I'm way beyond sick of it happening. Go »
Steve West | December 22, 2010
Those pushpin lights are very clever. Well done! I wanna be Elf of the Month.