Now, I know that all of you, my close friends and distant readers, will have figured out by now that I am a raging alcoholic and whore/junkie. In my crazy drunken quest to find the best combination of spirits and illegal medication on New Year’s Eve, I have somehow managed to erase the past ten years of my life, excepting the occasional memory of a particularly splendid breakfast here and there. Therefore, I find that I am hard pressed to write an entry about the past year since, to my knowledge, it didn’t exist. Fortunately, during my hazy days of drug abuse, I glimpsed a bit of the future. Enough to tell you that in the next year, Paris Hilton’s dog will take over her brain via securely placed breast implants, I will become even more of a comic book nerd, Firefly will gain popularity amongst the college crowd, and the space-time continuum will warp just long enough to gift President Bush with menopause and a crush on John Cusack.
That is all, and may you all live a happy, fruitful, charitable year because of course the fiercely trained ninja dolphins of China and the fiercely trained sharpshooting donkeys of Finland won’t gain sentience and take over the world, resulting in an apocalyptic state of affairs where only those kind to flippered individuals will survive. Just the fevered crack dream of a scarlet woman.