We’re having a holiday open house at the office today, and we all brought cookies and other sweets. I thought it would be fun and unique to bring brandy balls. So I made them last night and brought them in this morning, and placed them on the table with a sign.

Bart's Brandy Balls

But Boss Lady’s husband (Elliott, aka the inimitable HammHawk) had the same idea. He made bourbon balls.

And much to my chagrin, his balls are bigger than mine.

How very humiliating.

Update: By day’s end, the general conclusion seems to be that although Elliott’s balls are bigger, mine are more potent.

  1. *sigh*

    It always IS humiliating when you finally work up the nerve to show your balls, only to find out that they are smaller than you previously thought.

  2. Huh. Shoulda let me know ahead of time. I’d have gotten Dan to make some “South Park”-ian Chocolate Salty Balls, and you could have brought those in, too. Nothing like variety…

  3. Is it wrong that I’m 33 years old and I still laugh at stuff like this? I think not!

    (Of course, when I’m at the local Chinese buffet and see the pan of “shrimp balls,” I always remark how I didn’t even know that shrimp had balls…)

  4. Damn, this is the most discussion anything about me has ever generated, and all I did was bring my balls to a party. You may be the first person to ever call me “inimitable” but if you’d used bourbon, then I might have accused you of imitating me. That’d be a real first.

    Cheers to you and your balls. They were indeed delicious.

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