The Old Gray Mare Just Ain't What She Used'a Be.

Happy New Year! I mean, from a week ago! Or something.

So, yeah. My output on this thing lately has been erratic at best, as every time I sit down and try to form purty words and such, Her Majesty The Little Miss AKA HAZILLA THE CONQUEROR demands my attention by performing a new trick, like sitting up on her own without immediately toppling over and smacking her noggin on the hardwood floor, or developing cold fusion in her playpen out of building blocks and felt monkeys (she's clever, this one...). I swear, it's like owning a puppy, but with diapers, and eventually you have to put them through school.

More to the point: bloggetry has felt like less of a priority and more of a luxury of late, and while I certainly enjoy the precious few minutes per month that I spend with y'all, I think it's time for a change; I'm not exactly sure what that change will entail - probably a more regimented thingamajig, as opposed to my usual slackeresque "HeyguesswhatIjustfoundwhileslummingonconspiracytheorywebsites?" tone, possibly forcing me to actually learn a few computronical skillz while I'm at it - but it's been due for a little while now, so...

...so, um, there. I'm out. For a bit, at least. Normal service will resume...well, eventually. Until then, be good to each other, or I will hit each and every one of you with the biggest stick in the world, and you will thank me for it.

Oh, and as for 2008, this clearly beats out anything you might have on your Top Ten Lists:

I dare you to try and top The HILJ. She will destroy you and every one of your puny opinions, and she'll look cute doing it.

A Brief Word Regarding The Awesome-ness of Video Games.

So far, I've blown up sharks with grenades, discovered Thor's Hammer, defeated friggin' Cthulhu, then had a firefight with about a hundred mercenaries while escaping a sinking ship, all on the first level; the last thing I did before writing this was JUMPKICK A TIGER IN THE FACE BEFORE WHILE SIMULTANEOUSLY SHOOTING IT.

Tomb Raider: Underworld is so effing rad it makes my head hurt.

That is all.

Everything In Its Right Place

So, yes, if you hadn't heard, Black Friday lived up to its name, at least in these instances; myself, I was stuck behind a counter serving half-sweet non-caffeinated soy beverages, aka SWILL, to the Mount Royal Trophy Wives Club. It was fun, let me assure you - nothing says job satisfaction like having a spoiled and glorified housewife throw a full-blown tantrum when she discovers that you have peanut-butter & chocolate chip cookies, oatmeal-raisin cookies, but no oatmeal-chocolate chip cookies. It's an absolute wonder that I haven't purchased a firearm yet. I can only imagine how I'm going to deal with customers aka CHILDREN WITH TOO MANY CREDIT CARDS when I move to days this week.

That's right: after almost a decade of working nights exclusively at almost EVERY job he's had, Chris will no longer be that Surly Evening Guy, and will instead assume the mantle of Grumpy Morning Guy, all in the hopes of spending more time with both The Ladyfriend and Hazhulhu, Devourer Of Souls and Carrots. While I wouldn't say anything as groan-worthy as "There Will Be Blood", I do predict that this shift in working hours will result in a great deal of yelling and a few broken dishes.

But anyway: the only reason I posted this was to show y'all this video by Scroobius Pip, wherein a kid in a dinosaur costume walks around being insufferably cute.

It is now 7:27 am, and I must find a Spiderman cartoon to watch.

OHMIGODWHATISHEDOING?

I have no idea:

Zune Paint from Sibling Rivalry on Vimeo.

Really. I'm stunned. Perhaps not as stunned as when I received the phone call from the Ladyfriend last night, informing me that, "...we made the gingerbread house and Bryn spelled out the word 'COCK' in candies on the side and then made a gingerbread man with a penis standing behind another gingerbread man and we named them after you, Bryn and Andrew Wedderburn and it's AWESOME."

Still: stunned.

Now I must go sweep.

Happy Obama Day!

So, um, everyone knows my feelings in regards to voting and elections and whatnot, and while I tend to be fairly cynical and possibly a little delusional, I will say this:

This is, at the very least, a step in the right direction. Happy Obama Day; wave a flag, eat a cupcake, getcher self a copy of the Qur'an and clue in to the fact that there are other ways of life.

Now we must go calm our baby down, who apparently has been doing nothing but eating sugar all day long. WHO FED MY BABY SUGAR???

It is FAR TOO EARLY for me to be paying attention to this.

It's 7:00 am, election day, and already there is talk of malfunctioning voting machines and long lines dissuading voters; small groups of white lawyers are apparently forming outside voting stations to skulk like schoolyard punks trying to scare black voters away, while CNN grills a ten-year-old boy about the electoral college.

President Barack Obama. Just say it out loud once; it's a strange mixture of syllables, flying in the face of the long list of 'American' names that've held that title: Washington, Jefferson, Kennedy, Nixon, Reagan, Carter, Clinton, Bush - McCain fits in so well among these, whereas 'Obama' (I'm sure in some minds) conjures up images of witch doctors and jungle drums in the White House.

Here's the thing: you can talk until your blue in the face about Joe The Plumber and tax cuts - this election IS about race.

Here's another thing: this is not really such a bad thing, because if it IS about race, it just means that we're at least getting the subject out in the open.

(And by 'we' I of course mean 'you guys down there in the U.S.', because I'm up here in Canada and apparently our elections are about hockey and sweater vests.)

I have to go now and stop my daughter from eating...well, everything. I'll be back when I have a free hand again.

Yes, I used the term 'cooch'.

My daughter can't stop touching herself. There, I said it.

No, really - the moment we've got the diaper off, her hand heads straight for her cooch, and I die a little inside each time. It's like she's got no sense of modesty, and she's already 5 months old - I fear for an existence spent entirely chugging heroin beers at ringside for Wrestlemania, except for those brief interludes when she's resisting arrest for urinating on cops or something equally as classy...

...and speaking of classy:

1. So help me God, this is probably the only thing that people are gonna remember from this upcoming U.S. election (unless, of course, the pundits on both sides are right, and a) Obama wins and then promptly gets assassinated, or b) McCain wins and promptly dies of old age, both options filling me with an eerie sense of calm dread...): the Sarah Palin-inspired adult release, aptly named Nailin' Paylin, and the dildo shaped like Obama's head.

It's like...well, I don't know what it's like. It just makes me a little sad, y'know?

2. Oh, and then there's Ashley Todd, who beat herself up, carved a backwards 'B' into her cheek and then told police that a black Obama supporter did it to her. Nice.

3. More class for ya: newlyweds tasered at their own wedding and reception.

I had more, but the HILJ is currently attempting to chew her way through the hardwood floor, and her mother will kill me if Hazel gets a splinter. Here's German Bert & Ernie lecturing you about smoking just to give your day that added dose of surrealism. Don't say I don't love you.