Nixon's back, baby!
I'm his friend, Jesus!
I've been told I do a decent Nixon. Not real-Nixon. Futurama-Nixon. And Ted can do Brannigan and Zoidberg. And Craig does Kif. A lot. And Tanja told one of her subordinates to bite her shiny metal ass.
We've all been infected.
Anyway, holiday wrap-up: Went up to Tanja's folks' place, drank too much, got swanky margarita glasses and recipes, Shrek 2 DVD, Powderfinger CD, Pratchett books, etc. Went to the Hunter Valley, bought wine. Must go back. Over-stayed welcome at TFP, got snippy with lovely girlfriend. Reconciled. Post-Christmas splurging. Got swanky jeans, deadly belt, new Converse shoes, Playstation game, new camera card, Get Fuzzy calender. Still waiting on Mom's box. Shut up. Her parcel. The CHRISTMAS parcel, you sick fuck. New Years fireworks, Ted and Craig came over, watched Animal House. TOGA! TOGA! TOGA!
Tanja and I headed off to James' place yesterday and hung out with him and Ted and Craig and Catherine and Bam! the Dog. No, the exclamation mark is not a typo. This dog is a powderkeg of dogginess. We watch Willow, and we lent James Transformers and Ladyhawke so I could borrow 29 Days Later, Blade and Fight Club. Gotta love the barter system. Oh, and James lives in Newtown now! I know someone who doesn't live in the 'Burbs! Hurray!
There are still no potatoes. I may be forced to go and get some chips.
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