GTABloggers Christmas party: penultimate announcement

And remember kids, “penultimate” does not mean “better than ultimate” or “best”, but “second last”.

The details about the party are here and here, and if you want to come, RSVP with either me or Rannie.

There’s lot of music on my iTunes, but if you have any favourites, bring your MP3s on CD-ROM or CDs and we’ll feed them to the machine.

For the bold, there are two bottles of Jagermeister in my freezer.

If you’re counting on Jeremy to bring Krispy Kremes, don’t. Apparently, he had some kind of traumatic Krispy Kreme-related incident that’s turned him off them, possibly for good. He has in all likelihood been saved from diabetes.

If you really want to blog the party in real time, there’ll be at least two computers available — we’ve got 7MB down / 1MB up DSL, and 802.11g WiFi permeates the house. We are 1337.

There will be a “Kris Kringle” gift-exchange game ($10 value). I’m throwing in something pretty cool.

Sorry, the hot tub truck will not be present at the party. I try to limit my annoying the neighbours across the street down to a civilized once every three years. (The last time they were annoyed was my birthday party in 2000, when Chris Cummer arranged for a fireworks show on my street.)

The lack of hot tub means that there will be no string bikini photo ops. Meryle will still be there, however.

If you have a musical instrument (I’m lookin’ in your direction, LizVang), feel free to bring it. There’s always time for a jam session!

If we are very lucky, Paul might demonstrate his super power for all of us. He did it at my birthday party, and Sam was so impressed that she got him a T-shirt proclaiming said power.

The tub-full-o-beer will be in full effect.

Don’t forget: it’s a pot luck thing. I will contribute barley sandwiches and veggies and dip.

There will be a special guest blogger from another country, and she’ll have special guest posting privileges on this blog starting tomorrow. After the bars close, I will be taking this special guest blogger to Toronto’s most notorious speakeasy, The Matador.

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