Happy New Year, Crackers.

Yeah, so my brother decided to slip me extra vodka. Asti. Etc. So I'm totally like totally in the mood to love you all right now. In Baltimore. In the living room. At the home of my family. Far from my own home and gear and bike. And isn't my control of the shift key and punctuation just astounding? Yeah, I know. You don't have to tell me. Please eat a lot this year. Please. Please. I beg you. And please America, please please please be more sensible. I'm being nice saying it that way, too. You know what I'm talking about. You know. War, etc. You idiots. Not you though, dear reader. The other idiots. You know who you are, you shitheads. Love and kisses. Mostly just love though. My wife is a gorgeous but jealous lady. You know how it is. At least you're lucky if you do. If not, that sucks. Sorry about that. Happy New Year and stuff.