Thanks to all who shared their tales of holiday embarrassment, trauma, blackouts and illness in our latest commenting contest. It was a lot of fun (and sometimes just sad) reading them, and also oddly comforting to know that I'm not alone in finding that the holidays aren't just a nonstop barrage of peace, love and joy.
And it's nice to know that my wife's having to borrow bail money from her mother to get me out of jail at 4 a.m. on Thanksgiving Day isn't the worst possible holiday scenario possible. At least nobody lost a thumb.
As with past comment contests, there were a lot of great entries. Tyson's tale of being snowbound with a girlfriend's ex was cringe-worthy, and ocabrera's mom chopping off her thumb in the mad rush of cooking was like a nightmare come to life. And I'd love to try PTCD's dad's idea of giving work gloves as a gift with my own kids, even if they'd resent it deeply for the rest of their lives.
But the one that made me laugh the hardest was Misty's tale of waking up to concerned Facebook messages and incriminating photos. So, congratulations to Misty, and thanks to the Libertine Bar for offering the tickets.
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