unnecessaryz

I sincerely wish I was in a position to tell all of you how my vacation went, but for reasons to be filed under either blacking out or downright cheekiness, I'm afraid I can't. Not the really good parts, anyway.

But let me just say that when you drunkenly stumble onto a train full of people that are on their way to work and you're not homeless, you are without a doubt the coolest person on that train. In addition, when you get home and discover that your visiting brother is lost somewhere amongst the factories of Long Island City, and he stubbornly refuses your help because he's too wasted to realize he's like, way not close to your house, he is the coolest person to be completely out of his element.

If you've paid any attention to the wisdom I've tried to impart on you in the past, you'll remember that gauging how rad a night was is directly proportionate to how many wounds you discover on your body the next day. As of press time, I have:

- six bruises (2 arm, 2 back, 1 chest, 1 thigh)
- scratches (still counting)
- one hickey? (front shoulder)
- one juicy head bump (left rear)
- one cut lip (brother, spinning backfist)

Special shout outs for my admittedly vauge vacation go to reprobate for being the best new guy of 2005. waxangel for being the best gay kareoke host to make out with me as a reward for my awesome rendition of "Pray" of 2005. And freyja for being the best freyja of both 2004 and 2005.

One, motha' fuckas