The only way in hell I’m getting out of here for New Years is if some kind soul takes pity on me and invites me to their luxurious beachfront home. This ingenious plan was recently hatched over 2 bottles of wine and half a pumpkin pie with my  partner in crime Signe. We took these photos to illustrate what excellent guests we can and will be. I became kind of Larry Flynt-y and insisted shirts come off. That happens to me sometimes. These are actual things will happen at the home of the kind host or hostess who invites us (we will sings songs about you! we will water your plants! We will be the entertainment at your party!) except for: Signe probably wont play the blowup guitar at your party because no sound comes out of it. We need that blowup amp already!!!!

I feel that if Peter Jackson read this blog,  these photos combined with my proven elf ears from last blog  would really send him over the edge and we’d be on a plane to the supercool House that Lord of the Rings built on Bora Bora for some beach time. So, you know, forward this!