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  • This is my Blog...There are many like it, but this one is mine...

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        Monday, January 01, 2007

    Ugh...

    Someone stuffed my head full of Tampons and rusty nails, and they are screeching like fingernails across the inside of my dry, dusty skull. And they stuffed a live gopher up my ass, too, so if you'll excuse me...

    Later...

    It is not right that something of such heroic dimensions should have no odor at all, nor even leave a trace on the paper. Weird. It's as if the Turd Fairy sacked up all of my trash and threw it down the chute and I was just the transport device. Sigh...

    So, how's your day? Nat is trying to build a Tinkertoy Tower of Babel. Teetering there on the ottoman, she has already hit the ceiling. I convinced her, without too many blows, to change her longitude to latitude, so now she is laying pipe from one side of the house to the other.
    Johnny is sniping at her with his tank. POW! "Johnny!"

    The wife is playing sick, but I know damn well she is hung over as well. She is not much of a drinker, and we had some champagne-ish stuff last noc. Raspberry-ish, and very good, like a poor man's Lambic. $3 a bottle, and we had a few.

    We all stayed up til past midnight. This was the first Eve in my adult life that I have not done something involving firearms and/or explosives as the clock ticked over. Oh, to be sure, it was High Noon in Beirut outside (we are surrounded by Mexicans, don't you know) but we just sat and watched the Ace of Cakes marathon on Food Network, Nat on the wife, and John snuggled into me.

    I ended up carrying him upstairs to bed. Nat passed out, and the wife hugged me and stumbled off to bed. I played Titan Quest til 2am, then passed out, myself. Woke at 9:30 this morning to Nat screeching. The wife is concentrating on making 'the perfect blueberry pancake'. She got the recipe somewhere, and they claim it's perfect. The same person also says to heat your butter and milk and sour cream before you put it into your mashed potatoes so the cold condiments do not cool the potatoes, which makes enough sense that I may actually try a pancake.

    It is 11:30am, and I am having a medicinal whiskey and ginger ale. Things are looking up. I really really want to go see 'Children of Men'. Clive Owen is my Man Crush. I'd love to have my brain transposed into his body. Sorry Clive, new tenant. I'd likely want to transplant my penis as well, but I've not seen his, so...

    Okay, I'm done now.

    Merry New Year.


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