Ho Ho Ho

So, this weekend, we had a Christmas party. A big, twinkle lit, peppermint barked, egg nogged, wine mulled, mistletoed Christmas party. It was a really good party. At some point in the evening, Ficke, Mitchell and I decided that the best possible idea was to do some car bombs. Ya know, why not? So, here is a photo essay of my evening, titled, Bombs Over Bloomingdale. (Note: the last photo in this series starts to explain the "why not" part of that.)