On Saturday I went to my friend Gina's surprise 30th birthday party. I'm not sure how surprised she actually was. Nor was anyone else at the party surprised when Gina did a cartwheel after we sang Happy Birthday to her. Gina likes gymnastics. Nor would anyone be surprised when Gina busted out and did The Worm. Go ahead. Click on the link. I was going to re-size the photo and make it a little smaller, but that wouldn't be fair to you. Look at the extension in the legs. When was the last time you saw that kind of commitment on The Worm? Nineteen eighty what?

You can see on the left that someone else was trying to match Gina. No chance. Gina was the main event here. Her Party. Her Worm. We last met Gina in this post from September of 2003. At a recent wedding that Gina attended, she challenged a little kid to a dance-off. She woke up the following day with a bruise on her chin. She asked her boyfriend if she did The Worm. He said, "Gina, you battled an eight-year-old kid."

All those who wish you were friends with Gina, raise your hands. Thought so.

Friday was the office holiday party, where my nuts remained where they should have. I was pretty well behaved. Nothing could top one co-worker who said to one of the company VPs, "I want to talk to the richest motherfucker in this place." Then he knocked down a vase and fell down the stairs. Keep in mind, I did not see this happen, but I heard about it and that is good enough for me, despite the fact that it might be exaggerated a bit. This is the same co-worker who once brought a homeless man to a bar, not because he felt sorry for him, but because "I thought he was a pretty cool guy."