Due to my sick day yesterday I’ve come skidding, and not springing, into 2006. My body seems to be severely punishing me for recent revelries, and I feel like I could sleep for a week. I’m going into hiding for a good long while. Not here on the blog, but in the real world. So if you know me socially – don’t look for me. I’ll be holed up as pennance, spending my weekends being nerdy for at least a month. If I’m not back in 30 days, just wait longer.
Reppin’ C-Town To The Fullest.

Finally, C-Town gets their props in the form of Wedding pictures from Doug and Cara’s ceremony out in Whistler. Big up, big up. If you’ll remember, my camera mysteriously broke and no one else bothered to send me any snaps. Wicked thanks, by the way. Here is a little sample, and there is another one in the gallery here. Doug is a lucky guy. Cara is… um… lovely.
New Year’s Eve Ripcord.
My plans were just canceled for me – long story – and I’m pulling the ripcord as I do every year and just going to Sidebar. If you’re wandering, lost and alone, without any plans – please join us. I will be attending a little suaree at 80s Katie’s beforehand, but will ultimately end up singing Danny Boy somewhere in the Combat Zone and possibly even getting contact burns around my mouth.
The details as I understand them are a $60 fee to get in with champagne and food supplied. There’s a DJ I think, and 2 separate groups holding ‘parties’ – neither of which can manage to fill the place. Sometimes stumbling into a big room full of people you don’t know and making some new friends is a lot fun. Sometimes, it leads to social diseases. Regardless – I’m going. I’m pulling the cord and just committing. I will definitely enjoy not seeing you there as you do something far more interesting.
This Is My Space. That’s Your Space Over There.
Because I don’t already have my pants down around my ankles in terms of anonymity, I added a MySpace link to my disturbing little profile in the top navigation menu. Feel free to click through and add me if you’re a fan of the blog – or just watching in sick fascination like a school bus driving past a car accident. While we’re on the subject, here is a list of things I promise you will NOT find on my MySpace profile:
1. A fucking annoying hip hop song that starts five minutes after the page loads and sends your coworkers jumping underneath their desks like Slick Rick just drove past the office.
2. Animated gifs of the Napoleon Dynamite dance (sorry Damaris).
3. Photos of me with my shirt off standing beside a mediocre car. I don’t own a car, and my pale, gym-shy chest currently looks like the midsection of a narwhal.
4. A link to my band that sucks monkey cocks. Although, if I had a band, admittedly it would be called Monkey Cocks. MySpace has become this malestrom of mediocre talent that was never meant to see the light of day. “Dude, I did a search and can see that you like the Magnetic Fields. So I think you might like my band, Indifferent Potato. It’s actually just a squirrel I found in my backyard being recorded as I rode over it with an electic lawnmower, but I think you’ll get the vibe.
5. Pink on black anything.
So click on through and make yourself a new MySpace buddy. Some people wear their MS friends total like a badge on their sleeve. These people also usually spend Friday nights playing Unreal Tournament. Maybe we can join the same clan or something.

