Kill the fatted calf–or just bake some cookies

Rejoice and be glad!

Or just take my Happy New Year to y’all and smile. 

All my best laid plans have fallen by the wayside. I’ve done nothing and finished nothing besides a few jars of salsa and some rice crackers. My New Years Day was spent watching 16 hours of television. Sixteen. No. there was no hangover involved. Alcohol played no part in this ass-spreading marathon. Quite simply, it was The day of the slug and The Riches (eps 1-6) as well as Dexterfest and Top Gun bashing (come on, Tom Cruise pre-braces and I feel the need, the need for speed? Seriously, You can be my wingman? What the hell is that?), followed by watching the racing at the Bonneville Salt Flats in Utah, and a few episodes of South Park

Did I mention the rice crackers and salsa? They’re my new addiction–right after the peppermint mocha from Starbucks. I’m going to go cold turkey on those babies. The Holiday drinks will disappear soon. The rice crackers…well until I get sick of chili, and that’s never going to happen.

Resolution for 2008?

Um. I’m not one for resolutions. I just have wishes and hopes:
World peace, a cure for AIDS, poverty, hunger, and fashion that shuns day-go colours, metallics, hooker chic, cropped pants, big ugly bags with chains hanging off them, and chunky platform shoes..

All right. If you insist. A publishing contract would be nice. I waited 11 months to hear back from one publisher last year. I hope this year only takes 2 weeks and I don’t get a nice rejection telling me how wonderful I am, but no thanks.

Lots of clients for Shrinky dink.

Meanwhile, I’ve got to hotfoot it to that Highway to the Danger Zone.

Or maybe it’s really the kitchen.

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