Stage Left, Pursued By Bear

I seem to be the only person who didn't get an iPod for Christmas. Actually, my brother didn't, but I was quite sure he did after finding some sort of Apple warranty mixed in with the wrapping paper on the Table of Christmas Work. I am still suspicious of the whole thing and believe it will be given to him as a Congratulations You Got A Job Present.

Not having an iPod's okay when you have the Archos 20GB thingee with a headphone jack. It's a dinosaur, technologically speaking; two or so years old with giant black rubber grips that kinda look like bumblebees. I dropped it on a treadmill once, and it still works, so there're points there.

Christmas Break (when you work for a baseball team apparently you get these things; it's like being in college) was mostly splendid, when you get past the PermaGray that is Michigan in the winter. Some highlights included Andrew talking down the cover charge at Bleu to $5 a person, which wasn't worth it since it was the lamest club in Detroit and they made you do coat check for $3 a person anyway. DeLuxe was where it was at, if for no other reason than KO liked hearing "DEEEEEEEEEELUXE BASKETBALL" a few more times than it probably needed to be uttered. Mariah also came up with the idea of a wet t-shirt conference, which was supposed to happen at New Year's but was nixed in subcommittee hearings, which I find disgraceful after the forced butt contests of the past few years. On the flipside, New Year's did feature the Animal Terrorist Formerly Known As Sasha eating a stray deer foot in the driveway of Castle Grant. We can all thank Heard for that. We can also thank Heard for her hot shuffleboard skills, which, if I recall correctly, combined with Holly's to take down the lame-os who fancy themselves, when they play foosball, as the 1993 Detroit Red Wings. I was glad I had Lindsay Lohan and Jon Barry on my team to neutralize Gerard Gallant and Dino Ciccarelli.

I'd also like to thank Chris for the t-shirt that says "I French Kissed Kelly Capowski," which I cannot possibly wear in public without trying really hard to be ironic. On the same note, Chris and Andrew can't really wear their stocking stuffers in public either, so I'll be really interested to find out said stuffers' fates at this time next year. Lo-rise.

Happy '06.