There's A Needle in My Chest!!!!

I didn't do enough reading over break. My goal is to finish Run with the Horsemen by Friday. I don't think I can say it enough. I love Ferrol Sams. (Perhaps the following comparison doesn't lend itself very well to the topic at hand, but it's entered my mind and so must be stated for the record. And with that out of the way...) I’ve got to say that, though they are not as interesting to look at as...say, a "zeppelin race,"... Mr. Sams and Ellison are in a "dead heat" for my literary affections. I know I've said this before, but every time I finish reading something they've done I find myself saying, "Damn that man can write!" (And don't get me wrong...I love "zeppelins" too.)

If you don't know what I'm talking about...fuck off.

So, 2005...

As Daria aptly put it, "it was a dog." Yeah, it was a real bitch alright - generally unhealthy all around in my opinion. For sure it wasn't my best series of moments. Looking back, I realized that I was sleeping. I'm talking in the Frank Herbert sense, here. Dune, motherfucker. 2005 was a bad trip, man, and I'm glad it's over. But like most miserable experiences, I'm better for having lived through it. I think I'm awake now. I've got to hand it to you guys. You kept me sane, if only just. I was close to the edge, but youz guys pulled me back and I owe you one. Don't take this as an insult - you guys are John Travolta and I'm Uma Thurmon. (Think "fiction," the kind with pulp.)

Going into Edward's Bar and Bar, I had two toasts in mind that I will leave for you here. You're a bunch of smart kids and I'm confident you'll glean the significance of them without going into detail or mentioning particulars. But the problem, I find, with making a toast is that you can only give one, and for overly sentimental assholes like myself it's like Sophie's Choice. (That and they are generally reserved for the host to give, so I suppose if I'm to give them I'll have to host parties myself...or marry Edward. Ok...) You all mean the world to me and I'd glady lay down in traffic for any one of you if I thought it would do you any good. Usually when I say something to that affect I'm drunk so you don't take me seriously. Rest assured that I've got 18oz of espresso and steamed milk coursing through my capillaries at this very moment so you can tell I mean it...assholes. Ok, without further ado, I offer you toastage in:


The Witty Form
Let's have champagne for real friends, and real pain for sham friends.


The Sentimental Form
To true friends...

...and less need of them.