and so it ends…

hopefully, as you’re reading this, i’m killing off a bottle of veuve and wearing a velour adidas track suit…

(that IS my new years outfit this year since i’m just staying home solo!)

…and at the point this is being written (late on december 30th, to spoil the magic (oddly enough, true again!) ) i still have no fucking idea what i’m doing for new years eve. time will tell. so little social engagements, so much time. isn’t it SUPPOSED to be the opposite of that? (and yet another repeat)

does anyone remember y2k? i spent that new years amongst strangers ’cause my friends were all piss scared the world was gonna end so they were all set up with canned food, bottled water, and shotguns – and i was getting shit-faced (and paid for it) at a club where i had been hired on as security for the night. and back then we called the year “2000″ by the alphanumeric “2K”.

until the y2k scared i never thought of that.

but then came the following year which i dubbed “2k1″. okay, so i wasn’t alone on that, and i sure as fuck wasn’t the originator (i bet al gore would lay claim to that – after all, he invented the internet. and global warming. and pants…) but the year after i dubbed 2k2, and now we’re up to (what i still call) 2k8. next year will be 2k9.

do i stop then? can we do 2k10? or is this our last 2k year? (bullshit – 2KX, represent!)

well, either way, i hope all had a happy, safe, and fun new years eve – now let’s make 2k9 the year of the whore when i finally get my shit together! do i leave corporate america? (involuntarily) texas? (during 2k9? not even for a day!) the planet? (huh?) marry ME? (well, she DID get married – but was intelligent enough in her choices so that i’m still single…)