We had our firm outing today at a swanky country club. It was pretty uneventful for the most part. The most memorable thing about it is a toss-up between 1) the insanely ridiculous heat/humidity combo 2) the cool firm-embossed golf bag towel thingee and 3) the horrendously bad jokes made at the mercifully short dinner speech.
On the last topic, I always wonder what compels the speaker to push forward with the (never ending) jokes. After the first...I don't know...two or three...or even, say, NINE fall flat, doesn't the speaker want to end it? I know I mustn't have been the only one praying for a mercy kill. It may be even worse to consider that somebody actually wrote those jokes. *shudder*
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