Get me out of here it's time to switch. See ya.

Reebok better hope Terry never finds out!
Watch the full 4 minute film of Terry Tate - Office Linebacker registration required, but worth it! The company is called Felcher & Sons? OMG - that totally slipped by me the first time around! You all know what a felcher is right? warning: adult content

Fun and Games
Bomb Jack Platform game. Collect the bombs, avoid the robots things.

Worm How can something so small and simple be so infuriating?

Grab Bag
Powers of Persuasion Poster art from WWII

Home Despot Shop. Destroy. Rule.

Six Degrees of Weirdness
File under Small world.

What a strange and small world this internet it. While checking stats over that the [1] Web Fridge Project I was shocked and delighted to discover that the WFP was featured today on the front page of [2] Weird Links (a place I have been known to haunt looking for uh, weird links). While over at Weird Links I clicked through to [3] Pets with their heads in bags! (wouldn't you?!) Perusing the photos, I noticed [4] Eames, a cat in Phoenix. Now there is only [5] one man I know (in the blog sense of the word) with a cat named Eames and yes, he lives in Phoenix and his last name ends with "nrichs" just like the name plate on the desk. I've been reading Matt's blog for a few years now, and only recently I've had the pleasure of talking with him after he featured the [6] Friday Fishwrap. But after seeing this... I'm a bit concerned. Why would a Graphic Designer/Mid-Century Modern/Palm Springs loving kinda guy feed his cat Meow Mix? Really now, I would have thought you more of an IAMS fellow Matt. ;)

Slow News Day

Looking for something to do tonight? Why not play the State of the Union Drinking Game! Fun for the whole family.
via daypop

Most of them barely raised an eyebrow, but there were a few that got a chuckle or two out of me; Monkey Dive and Terry Tate as Office Linebacker. You can find them all here: Super Bowl XXXVII Ads

This one's for Murphy.

Web Zen: 3dots

Friday Night Report
I can't even begin to describe the train wreck I witnessed Friday night. My repeated attempts to erase all memory of this particular evening have failed. It's all there in blazing glory, burned into the gray matter of my brain to as a callus reminder of the perils of momentary lapses of reason.

I had said that I wasn't going. I had made alternate plans. But at the last minute, the Missus suddenly had an extra ticket which meant that I would have to fill in for her friend who suddenly "couldn't make it." (you'll pay for this one Mr.)

Tammy Faye Bakker Messner: Doin' It Her Way
Live on stage at the Camelot Theater.

First of all, they over sold the theater so when the missus and I arrived somewhat late but before curtain time, it was SRO. Luckily (damn it), we scored a trunk in the back with the lighting crew which ended up not being so bad except for my completely numb ass half way through the show.

Leslie Jordan a.k.a. Brother Boy of Sordid Lives, a Palm Springs cult film phenomenon, opened with a very funny and moving monologue. In fact it was the bast part of the entire evening.

Ms. Faye Bakker Messner made her entrance in a T.J Max faux fur singing "You Are So Beautiful" as she made her way down the aisle to the stage. When she launched into "Welcome to My World" the entire audience, 80% gay men, 19.9% Evangelical Christians and .1% me and the missus, looked like a room full of deer caught in her 18" fake eyelash headlights. Stunned. Every one of us. The woman is certifiable. A complete fucking nut-case.

Between songs she would relate tales of her tragic life interspersed with some very helpful sage advise on how to get cure toe fungus. You pick a ripe lemon off the tree in your back yard, cut it in half, dig out a little hole in the middle, stick the lemon on the infected toe, wrap a Ziplock™ over it and let it sit over night. Repeat for three nights. I kid you not. All I could mutter was "this is not happening, this is wrong, so wrong."

Saturday Night Report
It was the Missus' birthday. She planned a perfect evening of casual drinks with her closest friends. I decided that she needed ALL of her candles on the cake which quickly turned into a baked alaska with a nice protective wax coating as she blew them out. Next year, it's just gonna be those numbers. I almost lost my eyebrows fer christ's sake. It was a beautiful warm evening on the patio with good friends, good drink and gut splitting laughter into the wee hours of the morning. Perfect.

Super Sunday Report
I didn't care for either team but when push came to shove, I hated the Raiders more than I hated Tampa. I would have put money on the Raiders and wisely did not because whoever showed up in San Diego might have been wearing the Raider uniform, but they looked like the Detroit Lions Cheerleaders on a bad night. Granted, they did get cheated on a few calls, grossly cheated on two actually, but they sucked... plain and simple. Tampa spanked them and hard. A least it was a little more exciting towards the end, rather than the requisite blow out of years past. And as much as I like Gwen Stefani, Shania looks so much better in a silver sequin bra... hummina hummina hummina...

I'm a little hung over this morning, but that's the way it should be. Now if I can just erase this memory of Tammy Faye singing Patsy Cline's "Crazy" maybe I could get some work done.

He works for the CIA and his cover is...
I love making up stories about strangers. Especially in airports and subways. These Stop Motion Studies are fascinating. #10 definitely has something to hide, in a creepy kind of way and #14 either wants to ask her out or is downloading porn I can't decide.

I usually don't like the fluffy soft cutesy games but These Little Pigs is an exception.

In Other News
Bah... Whether or not the in-crowd popularity contest commonly known as the 2003 Bloggies was rigged - I do not know. I suspect there was more than just a little behind the scenes collusion. Most of the final nominees are worthy in some regard, yes, but it's kinda tiresome to see the same big time blogs up there. Please... Reminds me of my high-school "most likely/least likely" awards or the schoolyard bully "campaigning" for his friend to win class president. Besides, that page makes me ill just looking at it. It should win a Bloggy for "Worst Designed Lame Assed Awards Page".

Only two of my nominations made it to the first round: head-rush for best tag line and dykewrite for web ring. Of course neither advanced. Whatever. If anyone is interested, here's a page with active links to all first round cuts. There are some really great blogs here - too bad the "judges" didn't see 'em. But then again - there's always the coveted Dilly Award.

No offense to Dean, Tracy, Ernie, or any other folks who made it to the final round - really! If I've blogrolled ya, ya know I love ya. Just standing up for the little guys. God, that makes me sound like a kiss ass. Okay, I'll stop now...

A Slice of Apathetic Pie
l like living in my bubble. Sometimes escaping is healthy, ignoring the world around you and just living your life, enjoying simple pleasures. I'm quite good at it. And when I've settled into my comfort zone of the mundane; polishing chrome on a new old car, planning food for the Super Bowl, grocery shopping and dry cleaners, mowing the lawn, rearranging furniture, snarfing around online and playing silly little games ... suddenly something thrusts me out of my bubble and forces me to think, to act. Because if I don't do something, if I don't say something, perhaps no one will. And next thing you know, you won't be able to say anything. You've passively let your rights, freedoms, and yes, responsibilities slip away and you no longer have any control.

It could be an email suggesting my town is too gay, or perhaps reading the morning paper about another gay bashing, or the 30th anniversary of Roe v. Wade and the frightening realization that we are thisclose to losing the right to choose, or the deaths of Morris Kight and Sarah Pettit. It could be a post on a friends blog that forces me to address my own apathy as we teeter on the brink of war. Even an email from my wife that quotes John friggin Cusack, of all people, expounding the definition of kitsch and applying it to the state of the union:

John Cusack was interviewed about an upcoming flick he's in where he plays an art dealer to Hitler, before Hitler's rise to power.

"Even faced with Hitler's anti-semitism, Max calls it "kitsch," which is the worst sin he can imagine. There's a wonderful book called "The Rites of Spring: The Great War and the Birth of the Modern Age" by Modris Eksteins which defines kitsch as easy beauty without consequences, superficiality. But when applied to politics and taken to its extreme, he says, kitsch is the mask of death. Fascism was all aesthetics. There was no core principle to it. There was no truth to it. Even the idea of a master race, where was this blond, blue-eyed Aryan quality they talked of? They were all just creating it. When aesthetics become an end in themselves, you have kitsch, this sentimental vision with no ballast. Kitsch is more dangerous than it looks when taken to the extreme."

Do you think American politics today is kitsch?
"It's all aesthetics. And even the people who are covering politics don't question whether that's right or not. They just tell you, "Bush is doing a wonderful job of convincing people he is compassionate." It's a very successful con job. We've stopped questioning that it's all theater. We all know it. It's just disgusting. One day Trent Lott says what he says about the South and lo and behold the next day President Bush is reading to multicolored children at the White House. It's just pure theater; it's kitsch."

I used to be an activist. I'd be the first out the door if I heard the was a march or rally and I'd lose my voice screaming for people to get "out of the bars and into the streets" as we marched through San Francisco. I used to wheat paste posters in the middle of the night. I was arrested at the Nevada Test Site. I remember the last "No War for Oil" protests and El Salvador, Bad Cop No Donut, Kill Your Television and Take Back the Night.

But now... now I have a house and taxes, I have a family and I live in a very white bread suburban community where people just don't march. I'm 15 years older and I'm jaded and well... I'm just not very angry any more. Sometimes I shrug my shoulders and think... what can you do? The world will keep spinning whether or not I write a letter. And yeah, the revolution will probably be televised, right after the Super Bowl.

Link-O-Rama!

Fun and Games
Interface Escape Unique fun little game.

Squares Match up the squares. Advanced levels are harder than they look...

Fruit Loot Steal your neighbors fruit, but don't get caught!

Arts and Crafts
Imagination at Work

Kaleidoscope Make your own Kaleidoscope.

The Tile Machine Make your own tiles (desktop that is).

Grab Bag
Twisted Tunes is a collection of the good, the bad, and the ugly of parody songs. Personally, I enjoyed Shaggy Gets Caught because I'm juvenile that way...
warning: contains endless male masturbatory references

Things I've learned about owning a classic convertible

Always wear sun block. Even if you always tan well and never burn. Never say never.

Valets will let you park free of charge and usually keep the car up front.

Always make sure you have the key to the gas cap. Especially if you decided to take a long Saturday afternoon drive and only have a 1/4 of a tank.

Breaking into a locking gas cap is harder than you think.

Other cars will get the fuck out of your way the minute they see you in the rear view mirror.

Always put the top up at night. You never know when it might rain in the desert at 4:00 AM.

Putting the top up in the rain at 4:00 AM in your boxers sucks.

Girls will flirt shamelessly to get a ride in the car.

You only look good in a cowboy hat while driving the car. Once seated for brunch you just look silly.

A '68 Ford Galaxie comfortably seats 7 (plus three in the trunk).

Guys will flirt shamelessly to get a ride in the car.

Do not attempt the Dukes of Hazzard entry in front of a crowd unless you've practiced.

All my friends...



If all goes well, this weekend I'll be cruisin' in a new ride. (click image to enlarge)

Friday Fun
okay, so it's not Friday, but a girl can dream a little can't she?
It's the Irish-Girls birthday today. Go wish her a happy happy. 30 is a tough one!

BizWiz Well, there goes my future in retail. My drawer came up a bit short, but what else is new?

If math isn't your strong suit, try Whack a Mole.

A blast from the past... I used to spend countless hours of my wasted youth playing Tempest. This version rocks. It's the closest I've seen to the actual game. I miss spinning the wheel though.

Frodo has Failed


thanks stash!

Joke of the Week
The Pope announced new help for Catholic dieters every where. A new low fat communion wafer: "I can't believe it's not Jesus"

What he really said: Bush: State of the Union Address
6MB Quicktime

For my friend Irish Girl: He's got the moves! MackDaddyMario

How about a little "Bedside Manner 101" refresher course? Nurse tells tot to shut the %$@# up!
via exploding cigar

Be Prepared! That's my motto! Glow in the Dark Vibrator is "easy to find when the power is out." I'll keep it right next to my crank flashlight and portable radio. You know... just in case.

Is it Tuesday already?
My, how time flies...

Canada has a warship? Like for war?
via metafilter

Hogans Heros Action Figures. Bonus, the Bob Crane doll comes with a tiny little camera.

Finger Twister Play twister with your keyboard. Just remember to let go before you click next level. Duh. Took me a while to get that part.
via b3ta.com

How to feel really shitty about your life
or, why I hate stupid famous people
Moster.com Salary Timer

After deflating whatever ego and dreams you may have had by learning that Keanu Fucking Reeves earns $240 a minute (whoa), go ahead and beat your head against your desk while trying to master Blobs, an infuriating little solitaire game.

You're welcome. I'm just here to help.

Weekend Report
As most of you have noticed, The Web Fridge Project now has it's own home. I think the general consensus is that I've gone around the bend (like no one's ever said that about me before) and you may be right, I may be crazy, but it just may be a lunatic you're looking for.

I'm utterly deflated over the NFL playoffs. I can't stand a single team that won this weekend. I might be able to get behind the Eagles, but even that's a bit of a stretch. My Superbowl pick? Raiders vs. Tampa. The Raiders will go all the way. My god they were brutal and unstoppable. Fucking machines.

Besides football, the weekend was filled with much merry making as always. Rather than give the full reports, I just give you highlights.

Friday: Groundbreaking ceremony for the new Animal Campus, a 5 acre shelter facility set to open in 2004. Then it was off to the season opener at the Racquet Club. Note to self: mail out 300 invitations that read FREE FOOD and you're sure to pack the place. Wall to wall people. It was a lot of fun except for this "nutraceutical" guy who claims to have invented GHB (something his mother must be very proud of). He kept stalking me because he had no friends and I'm just such a nice person, I'll talk to anyone. I felt like I was shaking a dog off my leg all night. And I kept one hand over my drink at all times.

Saturday: Football in the afternoon, then Tim's B-Day party where we had some twisted fun watching the search and rescue helicopter look for a couple of lost hikers on the mountain. A not-so-bright someone who was 4-5 drinks into the evening kept asking where the search light was coming from [despite the signature thump thump thump of the helicopter]. Are they're using flashlights? Dear god.

Sunday: More football (don't even mention it... I might cry). Then it was off to lunch ar Rick's and to do a little window shopping. I found the perfect sofa for our house, only to learn that it had been sold two weeks ago. Fuck.

In other news:
Either my hands suddenly got VERY LARGE the other night...





Or this is the cutest little can of beer I have ever seen!

Just when you thought it was over
I have 3 new contributions to the Web Fridge Project (links on the left, added in the order in which I found them). Note the dichotomy of Irish-Girl's vast wasteland to Artichoke Heart's stockpile of frozen vegetables. As Arte used to say... Verrry Interesting! I am currently working on a seperate, more organized home for the Web Fridges. If you have already exposed yourself but are not listed here, ya gotta let me know. A few of these I had to go digging around for. If you have yet to dive into the world of full frontal fridge - I eagerly await your submission... er, contribution.

In other food news:
Snack Attack is brought to you by NASCAR and Kelly Tires. Use the mouse to balance the tray and the arrow keys to void the obstacles.

The Foreign Groceries Museum

An oldie but a goodie: Lileks Gallery of Regrettable Food

Too Gay?
So, mulling over this whole "too gay" idea this morning, I came up with a few things that actually qualify:

Bobby Trendy
The Pet Shop Boys (thanks shev!)
The Mullet
Leather Pants
Fanny Packs
Rainbow Jewlery
Richard Simmons
Matching Outfits
Anything Hello Kitty
Naming Your House

Warning: Uncharacteristic Political Talk Ahead

Because Greybird suggested I do so, and because it still irks me and this might make me feel better... below are my letters from this morning. Apologies to the folks who came here looking for laughs. Check back tomorrow. I'm sure I'll be in a better mood.

This was my response to a local "Community Meeting" agenda item under "Issues" that read:

"• The city is to Gay—some families feel uncomfortable."

(this was all done via email - names deleted for privacy)

January 8, 2003


Dear Mr. _____,

I received your Community Meeting invitation and composite list agenda this morning. I would like to take a moment to address an item you list under “Issues”.

The last item refers to Palm Springs as being “To Gay” (FYI: it’s “too” not “to” if that was your intended message).

As a full time resident of Palm Springs, a small business owner, a homeowner, and a lesbian. I take great offense at this implication.

If some “families” (we have families too) are uncomfortable with the “diversity” of which you list as an advantage, perhaps they would feel more at home down valley somewhere.

Palm Springs boasts a 30-40% (unquantifiable) population of gays and lesbians. In the last two years, my property in the north end of Palm Springs, the Racquet Club area to be specific, has almost doubled in value. This is due primarily to the influx of gays and lesbians. We have invested our lives in improving these run down and poorly maintained properties making this area one of the most desirable yet still affordable neighborhoods in Palm Springs. I know our straight neighbors are quite pleased at the improvements on our little one block street, currently home to 5 gay and lesbian families. I know this because I have asked them. Have you?

It is the gay and lesbian community who has put Palm Springs back on the map. If you doubt this, I suggest you do a little research. You might start by calling the Palm Springs Board of Tourism. They no doubt will confirm that the gay community has made a huge contribution to the growth and redevelopment of this village. Inquire about the increase in gay and lesbian tourists and travelers coming from San Francisco, NYC, and Europe in the last 3-4 years. Read the local paper. We are here Mr. _____. And combined, we have invested millions of dollars into this community. It’s unfortunate that you and pitifully, our own mayor, do not value the contributions we make, rather you would lament that our town has become “too gay.”

If the gay community is a problem for you, if we make you uncomfortable, if you do not appreciate our contributions, if you do not want our money Mr. _____, you may indeed be as misinformed and misguided as your laundry list suggests.

I close with one burning question. What is your proposed solution for the “Too Gay” problem? How do you intend to De-Gay Palm Springs? History has proven that people who try to eliminate or marginalize a segment of a given population are not generally remembered fondly.

Sincerely,

MJ _____


But wait! There's more!

So he replies (3 times) telling me that he is a gay man himself and has "personally poured millions of dollars into this community" AND the concern about PS being too gay was conveyed to him by members of the gay and lesbian community!!

To which I rolled my eyes and hit reply - then send, and went to go see a movie.

Dear _____,

Thank you for your quick replies.

I appreciate your support of our community, but I would choose my words wisely next time when inviting discourse. It concerns me that a gay man would willingly include “Too Gay” on a list of issues. Would “Too Black” “Too Jewish” or “Too Hispanic” be acceptable agenda items? I don’t think so.

Worse yet, if this concern was raised by fellow gays and lesbians, as you suggest in your last reply, I’m very disappointed. It smacks of self-loathing and internalized homophobia. We haven’t come this far only to be pushed back into the closet by our own community. I hope you would agree.

I’m not sure what (they) mean by “concerned about some elements of gay life.” Does that include gay bashing because ignorant people still hate queers? Or just the clothing optional guest houses, white parties, parades and leather bars? If you have followed the heated community discussion about these very things over the last year, you will know that these are hot-button targets. To which I freely defend their right to exist.

Please forward my email to the person(s) who voiced concern and suggested that this “issue” be included in your agenda. Let them know they are free to contact me if they have any questions or concerns.

Thank you for your time. I’m looking forward with interest to the outcome of your meeting.

Regards – MJ

Under Where?
Pickle Juice has just launched her own line of underwear. When thinking about ripping off her idea launching my own line, I determined that "Fishwrap Panties" were just wrong. Wrong, I tell you.

Somewhat related, get your own old fashioned undies at Vintage Skivvies. Is it just me? Or does the link "basket contents" make you laugh?

Apple Goodies
Mmm, sweet. But will it fit in your carry on?


X11 is now available for public beta. I can't help but see a similarity to Xerox looking at the new product identity.

Speaking of stealing similar look and feels, here's a frightening site for any designer: Pirated-Sites.com. What are the whacks thinking? That they'd get away with it? Unfortunately, most do.

In other news
Today I received a forwarded invitation and attached agenda to a local "community meeting" wherein was listed as an "issue" that Palm Springs has become "to (sic) gay".

Needless to say I've written a pointed reply to vent my spleen. Still somehow, I'm itchy all over. I hate that shit. As progressive as our village has become, some folks still have their heads in the desert sand. Grr.

I laughed. Oh how I laughed:
For a good read, check out Artichokes recent Conversation with Yuki.

What a groovy find!
A new .mp3 every day for the rest of the year. Pick number 2 is The Space Lady doing Major Tom. Her unique brand of outsider music is a San Francisco fixture I never thought would make me homesick, but oddly enough... it did. Should I be frightened?
via scrubbles

Too Much Time on Your Hands Award:
No doubt this qualifies for the award. Fascinating and hilarious: Postal Experiments
via boing boing

Friday Night Report:
Warning petty New Yorker Bashing and Swede Mocking Ahead.
Party at Chris and Peters. I thought this was going to be a small casual gathering of maybe 8 people but it quickly spiraled into NYC Fabulosity Meets the Desert. Within about 5 minutes, their house was full of 40 buff gym boys clad in black, one of whom turned out to be a tall leather shirt wearing Swede whom I'll call Sven because I can't remember his name. Sven is the "Creative Director" (to use the title loosely) for a very well known cosmetics company. Sven is your classic good looking gay swede. He fits the part of "Multi National Cosmetics Creative Director Based in Manhattan" in every sense, especially the one where basic knowledge of design is not a required skill. It's all about the look baby. This is what I hate about New York and the fashion/cosmetics industry. You can make mid six figures for doing absolutely nothing except standing there and looking good. And trust me, tall buff blonde gay swedes in leather shirts have an edge over short butch blonde lesbians in cargo pants.

I googled for a Creative Director job description just for fun. Here's a good one for Sven (with minor editorial additions):
"We are searching for a highly conceptual team leader who is constructive, fearless, charismatic I know, it's a big word, smart ignore this, it's not required self-possessed it's all about you baby, yeah you! and committed to a vision or look, or whatever.... Passion, perspective, innovation, stunning nordic good looks and a trendy gay sensibility are the core values a potential candidate will be expected to embody."

Okay, now I just sound bitter, and I'm not at all. I've been there, I've made my mark, and now I freelance, because I can. Living well is the best revenge. And once his looks fade (rest assured they will) he might actually have to get a real job that requires use of actual brain cells - gasp! And Sven? Next time bring your own damn cigarettes. Bumming half a pack off of me is just tacky and tiresome.

The highlight of the evening? Pigs in a blanket. I kid you not.

Saturday Night Report:
Wonderfully relaxing evening at home.

Sunday Night Report:
Returned to the Scene of the Crime to catch our friend Dana Atkins debut solo cabaret show. Ran into our snowball fight friends who updated us on the status of Broken Leg Mary. Turns out she's now SUING my friends for negligence and pain and suffering. What a load of crap. What do they call those people? Slip and somethings? I can't remember. We finished up the evening at Sidewinders, and aging queen leather bar where I swear I met Graham Norton in chaps. Home around 1:00 - too late for a school night.

Auntie 'Em! Auntie 'Em!
We've had wind gusts up to 60 mph here last night and today. Unfortunately, I have to go out in this shit in about an hour. See you tomorrow unless I blow away and get swallowed up in a dust storm.

Randomness:
Chrante Deti A series of Czechoslovakian matchboxes from the 40's or 50's with a child-safety theme.

SwearMaster 3000 When you care enough to swear the very best.

Skeleton Park Get Dem Bones. Too fast for me. I got munched every time.

Penn Jillette has a funny story about Heightened Security Screening and crank grabbing.

Wouldn't you know it.
Gretchen tosses up a link to this joint sending a gazzilion new people over here and I'm talking about football and farting. Really, I mean c'mon, my regular visitors know that this site is usually brimming with intellectual content and lively political debate. Okay - that's total bullshit. I'm all about fart jokes and mindless wanderings. But hey - somebody's gotta do it.

Speaking of mindless wanderings, check out:

Thank God for Bacon

Or Lake Superior States all new 2003 List of Banished Words

Or Cyberfireworks Virtual Fireworks Show

Or if you are looking for a good timewaster, play All Out a groovy little logic game.

It's all fun and games 'til someone lets one rip

Ah. yes. The New Years Day Ass Firmly Planted on the Couch Bowl-O-Rama™. God I love my chili. Mmmm Mmm. Much to the missus' dismay, yesterday I had about 5 - okay 6 - bowls (but who's counting?). I also made a fairly good dent in the beer supply. When bedtime rolled around I had more "weapons of mass destruction" than the G8 combined. I affectionately refer to it as sounding my "Luv Trumpet" but for some reason she doesn't appreciate the humor. Childish yes, but to my credit, I reluctantly abided the "no blanket fluffing" rule.

Over at Pickle Juice I came across Strong Bad. Now that's some funny shit.

Sometimes simple and stupid is fun. Omaha Steaks Chef Toss is like Whack-a-Mole, but with burgers and t-bones. Just don't feed the critters. warning: may make carnivores very hungry - mmm chili

I remember this brainteaser, but I'll be damned if I remember how to solve it. Connect the Dots. Connect all of the dots using only 4 lines.

Pointless observation: The brits pronounce "iguana" as "Igg you wanna." So, if you had a tin lizard, it would be an "al you mini um - igg you wanna"? Good to know. Buffys Swearing Keyboard.

Good Morning 2003



So I wanted to be able to tell you, dear reader, that I had the most fabulous and glamourous evening last night. Danced, drank, made merry and at the stroke of midnight, popped the cork, and as I kissed my lovely wife while we danced, confetti fell from the sky.

Uh, no. Not this year. But we kinda planned it that way. We wanted to be home no later that 10:00, build a fire, pop a bottle of champers and like the Palm Springs blue hairs that we will someday become, fall asleep at 11:27, precisely 33 minutes before the ball dropped (technically, that would be 2 hours and 27 minutes AFTER the ball dropped, details, schmeetails). And this is what we did. Well sorta.

We gathered pre-party at Rich and Michael's at 6:00, then off to Jamie and David's for cocktails and merriment at 7:00. Fabulous party as always, and it was here that the missus, not being the driver, was free to indulge. Sure! Why not, it's NYE fer cryin' out loud! But here's the thing - she quit smoking 40 some days ago (WooHoo!) and in order to compensate for the awkwardness of not having a butt in her hand when everyone around her is smoking, she had another glass of wine... and another.. and well, you get the picture.

Being the driver and painfully sober, when 9:45 rolled around I was ready to head home so that I might also have the pleasure of a few pops before the evening was out. As I watched the missus playfully slosh her wine about the room, I knew it was time to leave before this got messy. Standing there with our coats, I suggested that we say our farewells. But she was in a fine state holding court with the boys and had no intention of leaving because she was having sooo much FUN! Whooo!

After a little arm twisting chat, I had the car brought up and we made our way safely home, but not without a little pouting from the missus. It was kinda cute truth be told.

We skipped the fire but popped a bottle of champagne and toasted yet another year gone by. I was in bed at 10:30. And right on cue, asleep by 11:27. I have no idea what she was doing (I'm guessing it may have involved email and/or a few long distance phone calls) while I slept through Dick Clark, but around 3:00am when she came to bed she was having a lively conversation with a cat and proceeded to rattle every small metallic, glass and plastic item in the bathroom for 3 straight minutes before bumping into my night stand thus spilling my glass of water and finally flopping emphatically on the bed sending me and my feline sleeping partner 2 feet into the air. I was wide the fuck awake. And cranky.

Having now rung in the new year with Hawaii, Togo, and the rest of the goddamn planet, it's 6:00am here and I have not been able to return to my restful slumber.

I guess I should get the chili started for todays football fest. But I hate the smell of cumin in the morning...