Here is a poem, authored by our very own Trevor Shaw at our Christmas Party. He, very ingeniously incorporated the names of all the associates in our offices.
Christmas Party Story
Twas the night before Christmas, I was hoping for Cindy Snow, and all through Re/Max not an agent was stirring not even Colleen Delany. This story really starts in Dan and Larry Gilliland a place not far from here and a Christie Stones throw away from Glenn and Norene Burlington. It’s a land of strange things like big Mike Sturgeon fish, and Dragannas (I can’t say your last name) with large Jay and Diana Monteiths and scarey Al and Gary Beacocks. I should mention this story was told to me when I was on my Corrie Holiday with my buddies Steve Knowles everything about Condos and Greg “where you been” Garner.
So anyway, I’m sitting at Tim O’Haras Irish Mafia Grill smoking my Chris Ashurst while drinking in my left hand a Sandra Collins and on the table sat my 3 favourite Christmas drinks on ice the Fraser, the Neil and the Zach Bayley-Hay. We had ordered a buffet of meals for the 3 of us starting with LeeAnne and Norma Jean Campbell Soup, followed by the Ryan and Karen Boyle, for our main course East Indian dishes Melanie and Amanda Currie and also Joan Mariner sauce on spaghetti, and of course nothing better than chicken wings from a Shelly Fryer.
Now it’s a good thing before I left for my Corrie Holiday I bought my wife her favourite flower the Nicole Rosebrugh and took her out on the Glenda Townsend, we filled the truck up at the Fred Schell and headed to Rama to win money at the Irene Van Slot’s. Back to my story though, this guy sat with us he looked like he was keeping up with the Heather and Robin Jones’. He ordered a Keith McLean and began his story about the adventures he had one night.
He had too many beers and Sue Hennigars and got Carl Rabinowiczed that night, and Helen Mann oh man he said he went crazy. Felt like the room was Finn Madsening and said the next day he knew he drank too much as he had Chuck Adamsed. Funny he said best thing for his hangover was Dawn McDonalds. His Kim Gardiner was very mad and wanted to kick him in his Rick LaFerriere. Apparently he brought home a Michael Cow with a touch of the Ellie Haringa and a bale of Jane Haye as well as 3 Foxes, David, Karen and Lisa, who apparently like to eat sheep because there was Karen and Scott Woolsey everywhere as well as a Margaret Fisher bird in the pool and it was going to take forever to make it Monica Wright again.
At this point I spilled my Diana Actelonie I was laughing so hard. “I’m off my George Atkinson diet” exclaimed the Craig Butcher to the Cheryl Baker and the candle stick maker who by the way was wearing a new French hair product the Ute Louise Burtol. Well he says at this point I’m thinking I should call secret agent Margret Smythe in or even Mike and Shelly Constable to see what I had done he exclaimed.
Now apparently this whole thing started on Sherry Finlay Mill Road where someone pulled out his Doug Griffin and went Chris Raven mad apparently this guy was on the Mark and Kelly Welch grape juice which can cause you to Sabina Sadl-Kolcheski if you have too much. Just then Mark Pauli pulls in on his Harley Jack Davidson with his Bill Burton snowboard under his arm he says he wants to lend us a Kim Callahan and I said the ball was in his Nicole Dalcourt. Whether this is Michelle Plowright or not a very distraught Jackie Basic chimed in she was staying at the Rebecca Chilton tonight because earlier today her boyfriend took her into the wilderness to do some Leo Campanellaing but then tried to Enzo Annecca her and tonight she’s going to sleep with her Mike Battram so she could Greg Clubine him if he showed up. My guess, the guy had a Craig big M little Organ.
On our flight home we sat with Anne and John Preston who aren’t related and the Beauchesne twins who I might say looked way hotter than the Jay and Michelle Stewarts who really seemed to be in my Norman Wey. Anyway I finally fell asleep and began dreaming of skiing in the Rory McGlades on snow as white as Sharon Rice and hopes Jamie McGuinty changes his name to something like Chris Smith that I can’t make fun of.
On a final note my wife and I are considering new hardwood but can’t decide between the Barry or Sherry Wood.
And finally Viscovitch is not just a disease.
Chris Smith CSSBB
Chay Realty Inc., Brokerage