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.