I realized, as I was setting the table for Brian's HOPy Birthday dinner, that for the first time in the history of having people over for dinner I wasn't cooking anything. No burners were touched for this beer-cheese-brat-Smurf bash.
Why Smurfs, you ask? I don't really know. All I know is that my now thirty-eight-year-old friend was lamenting that his childhood collection of Smurfs had been dropped off at Goodwill by his mom. That was enough to spawn a Smurf-themed party. And I couldn't resist this little guy - a Smurf with a stein. What do you think his name is? Tipsy Smurf?!?
Why Smurfs, you ask? I don't really know. All I know is that my now thirty-eight-year-old friend was lamenting that his childhood collection of Smurfs had been dropped off at Goodwill by his mom. That was enough to spawn a Smurf-themed party. And I couldn't resist this little guy - a Smurf with a stein. What do you think his name is? Tipsy Smurf?!?
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