Reasons to be cheerful.

Right. Cheerful? Sure.

This is just a quick update, as I seem to have succumbed to the new superflu that was created in some black-ops bio-weapon facility and released upon the unsuspecting public by android carriers wearing the guise of cherub-faced Christmas Carolers.

Did I spell 'carolers' right?

Whatever: my head hurts, my nose is leaking fluid like a corroded fuel pump, and my bowels seem to feel the need to vent themselves every three minutes or so. Everyone in my building seems to have heat except for me, and I forgot all my Christmas chocolate at my girlfriend's house. Man, this sucks.

However: I did have an awesome Christmas, the highlights being:

- spending Christmas Eve at the Brown household, where my ladyfriend was introduced to just how insane MY friends are ("Let's ALL go hang out in the garage and leave your mother-in-law by herself in the living room watching The Godfather on TV! YES!"); a brief clip of it is here, although in retrospect, I don't know why found this so hilarious. (Best Present: they got me a rubber chicken that pops an egg out of it's butt when you squeeze it. It's really gross, so while it amused me when I was drunk, now it just disturbs me...)

- spending Christmas Day with Miss Ess (I'm not allowed to call her Crazy any more, since she's infected with my seed...), and watching her open presents and stuff. Honestly, I'm happy with what I got, but it was really cool to see her enjoying the day, too. I took pictures, but she's wearing my unnerwear in 'em, so you don't get to see. (Best Present: Bioshock, that AWESOME game that I've been talking about all year, where you fight mutated little girls and giant diving suits in a disaster-struck underwater city; now if only my computer could run the damned thing...)

- seeing Big Clint on his way through town. Holy crap, is that man the epitome of Good Shit. I kid you not. It's like having a big ol' grizzly bear as a best friend, only not the gay kind, and the bear keeps making all sorts of rude comments about boobs and butts, but in a non-offensive way. If that makes any sense. Which it probably doesn't. Because I am sick and dumb right now. (Best Present: he bought me a copy of The League Of Extraordinary Gentleman: The Black Dossier, which isn't even available in Canada due to an enormous amount of copyright issues; it took me six hours to read (understand: I go through comics like they were toilet paper...ewww...), it comes with 3-D glasses, and it ROCKS.)

- oh, also: the baby is kicking, just not when I'm around.

- also: my mom gets props for sending us a whole schwack of baby stuff. We love you, Mom! Please don't break any more bones!

My bowels are arguing with me again, so I must go violate my toilet. Then it's an evening of chicken noodle soup, neo-citran and more X-Files. Happy New Something. Now leave me alone.

Everyone said she was beautiful, even without her head.

Sometimes all you need is a bit of Cracker to realize that as bad as things might seem, they could always be worse. God bless you, David Lowery; it takes a wiser man than I to realize that even skinheads need recreation, too.

So. Christmas. Anyone else feel like just giving it a pass this year and sleeping in for a couple of days? Nothing like a misappropriated holiday to turn the usual bunch of mouth-breathers that I deal with on a daily basis into raving coprophiliac monkey-children. Attention Jerkfaces: it's not my fault that the stores are out of Nintendo's Guitar Groupie Hero With Real Fellating Action that your kid's been whining for since last April. It's not my fault that the stores know to jack their prices during this time of year, or that they force their employees to sport limp felt gnome caps and glow-in-the-dark noses*, nor is my fault that every stereo system in the city seems programmed to play Billy Ocean's Funky Fresh Christmas featuring Amy "I'm A Christian For Real This Time" Grant and Micheal "My Golden Voice Was Created In A Lab By The Same Evil Minds That Brought You Napalm And Micheal Jackson's Weird Skin Disease" Buble. I can understand why all of this would drive you to take an icepick to your frontal lobe, but it's not my fault. Hell, I only serve coffee, and while I may not be the best at it, I'm not too shabby, so take your misdirected petulance elsewhere, or I'll brain you with a portafilter. I swear, you should all be spayed and neutered and kept in cages like stray animals.

I'm gonna have a daughter soon, and I promise that every year around this time, I'll take her out and teach her how to ice down the parking lots of malls.

Rant over. Stuff:

1. One More Sign Of The Decline Of The American Empire: The Lakota Indians withdrawing from every treaty they hold with the United States.

I have no words aside from: HOLY CRAP.

2. Why does it not surprise me that Scott Baio is 45 and single? Why would any network think people would want to watch this?

Oh. That's right.

3. New Batman Trailer: dude, I can barely stop from touching myself in anticipation.

4. NEW HELLBOY MOVIE??? Okay, I just exploded.

5. Found: the missing link between Raccoon and Whale. Wait, what? Was anyone actually looking for this? Really?

'kay, I gotta go. I gots presents to wrap (cuz despite my rant, I do loves me the season), gin to drink and more X-Files to watch. Hey, Chris Carter, could you maybe write another episode where Mulder finds his sister and then promptly loses her, or where Scully rediscovers and then questions her faith in God?** Because those ones NEVER get tired.

* ...um, stay away from Beano on Christmas Eve. Please.

**This would actually be funny if the show hadn't ended, like, years ago.

(This is my whiny voice)

I am sick. It is not pleasant. I am not impressed.

Stuff:

1. OH. YES.

2. Just because you're paranoid, it doesn't mean they're not in your head selling you Nike sneakers.

3. There's a giant hole in the universe, and I bet that's where all my apartment's heat went to.

4. Viral marketing for either: a) Mark Millar's upcoming title, Kick-Ass, wherein a teenager decides to become a superhero by putting on a mask, grabbing a baseball bat and then looking for trouble, or b) the imminent Watchmen movie; either way, meh.

5. Oh, by the way, that hole in the universe? Warren Ellis knows what it is.

That is all. I am going to immerse myself in a giant cauldron chicken noodle soup and neo-citran, and hope that when I wake tomorrow, I won't feel like a giant bag of turds.

Honestly, I hit her cuz I love her.

I am the worst person ever.

So, my girlfriend decides to be nice to me, and she says, "Hey, why don't you come sleep over at MY apartment tonight, because your apartment is sometimes cold, and it'd be nice to cuddle and stuff, and it'll be fun!"

So what do I do? I spend all night beating the crap out of her.

I swear, every time I shifted in bed, I ended up punching her in the head, or kicking her, or accidentally stepping on her belly, or headbutting her. I am SUCH a jerk, and I guarantee that my little girl's gonna clock me the moment she escapes the womb.

Of course, I suppose I could feel worse; after all, I'm still making her drive me to Diner Deluxe so's I can eats me my steak and eggs.

In other news: Twyla? It's WINTER. It's supposed to be COLD. This is why when it gets gross and slushy out, we STOP wearing our Converse burlap sacks on our feet and START wearing winter boots and other such apparel. Jeez, woman...

Rod Stewart is not mentioned once in this blog, and I like it that way.

I'm alittle drunk.

It's been a while since I got myself a little drunk, probably since the last time I had a drink, the Crazy Lady made me crawl out of bed and brush my teeth because all she could smell on my breath when she kissed me was gin. Poor me.

It's all Josh and Kade's fault. They would not relent in pushing drinks down my gullet. I am the victim here. Even though they are botha delight to carouse with, I am clearly being taken advantage of.

I wanted to show you this silliness, and then this ridiculousness, and then this. But now I have to go shave my beard and my head, because I have to work EARLY tomorrow (1:00 in the AFTERNOON!! Who gets up that eraly? I mean early. Yes.), and then I must be presentable for our staff Christmas party, for which I must wear a suit.

It's true: I will be pretty tomorrow.

'Irregardless' is not a word. Stop using it. That is all.

A few things before I immerse myself in TV addiction:

1. Apparently, God hates the world. Personally, were I some omnipotent being who'd granted consciousness and free will to a species that would eventually turn around and create something like this video, I'd start thinking about going back to the drawing board myself.
   
   I think my favourite moment is about halfway through, when someone starts waving an upside-down Canadian flag in the background. I can't tell if it's supposed to be some sort of ridiculous insult, or if it's just a dimwitted Canadian showing his gap-toothed pride for all to see.
   
   (Of course I found this on Warren Ellis' site; I'm quite certain his site is designed to be the internet version of a strong cup of coffee, something to shock you into wakefulness by punching you in the back of the head while squeezing your balls at the same time.)
   
   
2. Heylookit'sthenewBatmanposter.
   
   ...yes, it makes me happy. I don't care if Clint thinks that Heath Ledger is "a dog's breakfast" (Clint started using this phrase after he'd gotten back from Australia, and frankly, I don't get it, as most dogs eat better than I do...); Ledger looks good. Plus, it's Christopher Nolan, so it's gonna rock. Shut up, you.
   
   
3. That's all fer now. I gots new CDs to listen to (The Summerlad, Unkle, Vitalic, some new Southern Lord group called Shipwreck A.D., plus this new project called Tusk that features three-quarters of Pelican with a Japanese vocalist, all of which equals awesomeness), and that X-Files stuff won't watch itself, y'know...
   

OOPS.

This post has been edited at the behest of on Joshua Barsky, Esq.


Just sayin'.

"My friend Chris: good at video games, bad at life."

Honestly, I'd like to regale y'all about:

1. Josh and I locking Jared in the closet/staff room at work for about fifteen minutes, where he sat and took pictures with my camera and then ended up stealing Josh's pack of smokes.

2. Josh yelling at a homeless crackhead who, in his own words, "...spent more money on drugs in a week than you do on rent in a month, and I got an IQ of 1280 so I'm smarter than alla you combined so I'll order my coffee and pay for it and then it better be ready for me when I get outta the bathroom...", while Josh tried to snatch the bathroom key out of his hands with the baking tongs.

3. Jared accidentally smashing a pint glass over the espresso machine so badly that we were picking shards out of the coffee grinders, while Josh freaked out over "FIBRE-glass! Make sure you get all of the tiny ones!".

4. Nearly getting into a fight with a mohawked redneck who was, well, looking for a fight, as we walked to Watchman's after work (Wait...Watchman's, a redneck bar that without fail starts playing Korn and other shite Drop-D bands as soon as it hits 1:00 a.m.? We really gotta stop going there...), who then inexplicably called us 'niggers'. (No, really. He did. I don't get it either...)

5. Kade asking all of us what hobbies we all enjoyed when we were kids, and me realizing that my entire life has been a comedy of errors up to this point. "...well, yeah, I told my friends that there was a ghost haunting my bedroom, and that the ghost was this kid who'd died in the house before we moved in, even though my family was the first to live in that house, but that was after I'd shot that eagle with a BB gun, and our family had two different puppies that'd been shot by farmers, and did I mention that Rob and I think we gave our cat asthma?"

(Sweet Jesus; how have I managed to not accidentally walk into traffic all this time? Why hasn't some piano fallen on my head yet? How am I still alive?)

I'd like to talk about all of these, but frankly,
I'm tired, my apartment is cold, and I wanna go to bed. So, um, talk amongst yourselves.