Happy Motherfucking New Year, Bitches!!!1!!!

My wishes for all of you for the new year (by which I mean the actual evening, not the whole new year--y'all can get eaten by rabid finches on January 2 for all I care, so long as tonight is fun).

Don't be at the Garneau Pub.

Find someone to kiss at midnight.

Drink champagne.

See at least one dog in a party hat. (Cats are also acceptable.)

Sing the first chorus of Auld Lang Syne, then trail off into slurred, incomprehensible muttering, because no one knows the words, nor why we sing a 300-year-old Scottish poem on New Year's.

(Speaking of which, the lyrics to Auld Lang Syne:

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And auld lang syne?

CHORUS:
For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne,
We'll tak a cup of kindness yet,
For auld lang syne!

And surely ye'll be your pint-stowp,
And surely I'll be mine,
And we'll tak a cup o kindness yet,
For auld lang syne!

We twa hae run about the braes,
And pou'd the gowans fine,
But we've wander'd monie a weary fit,
Sin auld lang syne.

We twa hae paidl'd in the burn
Frae morning sun till dine,
But seas between us braid hae roar'd
Sin auld lang syne.

And there's a hand my trusty fiere,
And gie's a hand o thine,
And we'll tak a right guid-willie waught,
For auld lang syne.)

Lead a wild, drunken rendition of some song far better than Auld Lang Syne.

Please don't trap your best friend in a room and tell her (or him)--in a lengthy, blubbering rant--how guilty you feel about secretely loving her (or him) for the last year, then pass out in the middle of a living room and get your other drunk friends to draw genitalia on your face in permanent marker. Not that I've ever partaken in such foolishness, of course, just that I imagine it would be an unpleasant way to ring in the New Year.

Drink orange juice tomorrow. With champagne, if you like.

Call ahead for a cab. Alternatively, wear thick socks and walk home--it's nice out, for the time of year.

Send Tim a piece of spam or an expletive-soaked e-mail insulting his heritage and his mother. Preferably after about 2am.

The time between midnight and 6am on New Year's Day is not to be remembered by anyone, and none of the events are to be held against anyone for as long as you live. Whether you use this information to guzzle wine straight from the bottle, getting red splotches on your party clothes, or kill a plain-clothes police officer, as is my tradition, is up to you.

For the love of god, drink red wine, not white.

Call your mother. She loves you, you know, even if she has trouble showing it sometimes, and didn't get you what you wanted for Christmas, and sold your cat but bought your brother a dog, and turned your room into a fucking office before you were even totally moved out, and bought a hot tub, and a nice car, like, two months after you left, and has drained your father of his will to live with her incessant nagging. Call your dad, too--he's lonely and depressed. And probably drinking already. Like every New Year's. And Christmas. And Friday.

Don't let the crushing realization that another year has passed and you've done nothing with your life get you down. Did you know that almost 35% of suicides happen on New Year's Eve and Day? Probably not, since I made it up, but it's plausible, isn't it? Given how none of our lives are going anywhere? And how we've failed everyone that we've loved? And that this fact has paralyzed us from forming new relationships with people, so much so that we spend most of our time lost in a world of fiction and can only really be honest when we're "sarcastically" posting on a blog?

HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!!!!!!!!!

The Yule Log also has an imdb entry

Maybe because I did not grow up in the Northern Hemisphere; maybe because I'm Chinese; maybe because we never use our fireplace and instead the fireplace is more like a backdrop to my makeshift Lego exhibition grounds, in any case, I really don't understand the attraction behind the Yule Log.

It's like a fireplace! But it's your TV! But it's not eminating warmth! But it's burrrrrrrrrrning!!!11!!!1!!

You can stare at it without burning your retinas!

Anyway, while I may not appreciate the enigma that is the Yule Log, plenty of people do. In fact, there's an active forum for all your Yule Log-related discussions. In addition, this is a Canadian forum, so you will get such location-specific advice as "Here in Edmonton the log is also on ch 18."

Good sir, I did not know that!

I'm just amazed that there's a active community of Yule Log enthusiasts out there.

The reason for the season

Merry holidays, everyone. This is, of course, a solemn and spiritual time of year, and in keeping with that spirit, I think we need a post wherein we can all share with each other tales of all the awesome shit we got. I'll start.

- I managed to finish off my Buffy the Vampire Slayer DVD collection. (You'd have thought I'd've already done that, but there you go.)
- Got a sweater.
- And a couple knives, but not the awesome demon-slaying kind for some reason.
- I've been promised season one of the original Star Trek, once my dad finds it. This will finish off that series for me.
- A Beanie Baby panda. Her name, according to the tag, is Mandy, but I think I'm going to call her Ying Ying.
- A TV which, while not mind-blowing, is good enough that I'll feel no need to upgrade until I can afford an HD widescreen.
- A small amount of cash, which was used to purchase Luigi's Mansion, Mario Golf: Toadstool Tour, and Animal Crossing. These are all good games.

I also ate two Tofurkies, and a lot of other stuff. I estimate that I've gained at least 15 pounds, but I haven't been able to bring myself to step on the scale yet.

How'd the rest of you do?

Since U Been Gone

I've missed you, Gateway volunteers. And to show you how much I've missed you, and as a Christmas present, I give you this. You can thank me in January.

OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD!!!!!

Starting in January, ESPN Classic Canada will begin showing reruns of The Greatest Television Program in History: American Gladiators. Depending on when it airs, I may have to quit my job.

EDIT: Information on subscribing to ESPN Classic Canada is available here.

An editing exercise in hyphenation

Which of the following is correct:





Universal's print advertising department obviously has a hard time deciding. But this should be a cakewalk for you guys.

Right?

Stop ripping off the Bard!

I just read the synopsis of what is probably the worst modern day teenage adaptation of a Shakespearean play.

Viola Johnson (Amanda Bynes) had her own good reasons for disguising herself as her twin brother Sebastian (James Kirk) and enrolling in his place at his new boarding school, Illyria Prep. She was counting on Sebastian being AWOL from school as he tried to break into the music scene in London. What she didn't count on was falling in love with her hot roommate, Duke (Channing Tatum), who in turn only has eyes for the beautiful Olivia (Laura Ramsey). Making matters worse, Olivia is starting to fall for Sebastian, who--for reasons Olivia couldn't begin to guess -- appears to be the sensitive type of guy she'd always dreamed of meeting. If things weren't complicated enough, the real Sebastian has come back from London two days earlier than expected and arrives on campus having no clue that he's been replaced...by his own twin sister.

I'm posting this because Scotty and Scotty and I just finished reading Twelfth Night for drama class and my insides died MANY TIMES after reading this. I thought both Scotts may share my pain.

Oh, and the pictures are unimpressive either:



Also, the title is She's the Man.

Please! Even a thousand monkeys typing furiously in front of a thousand typewritters wouldn't come up with something as assy as this.

Last RATT of the year

Fuck Tim

I don't think Tim reads this blog at all, so I think we should all start forwarding him all the spam we get, with the title changed so he doesn't realize it's spam. I want to see how long we can do this until he starts getting angry. I'll start with the next piece of spam I receive.

Don't explain to him what's going on if he asks. Just say it was an accident or something, and keep doing it. I have no reason for recommending this other than pure spite.

King of the Boombox

At 1:30pm today, the elevators on the first floor of the SUB opened to reveal David Berry holding a blaring boombox playing "My Humps." He walked at a rapid pace, bringing the horrendous music along with him, and traced a path through ETLC, V-wing, CAB, Tory/Business Atrium, HUB mall, the Law Building and the Pavillion. Next, he headed for the Powerplant, but upon arrival, decided against entering.



As "Who let the dogs out" played loudly over the speakers, Berry clutched the boombox in the cold and walked with gusto towards SUB. The CD was not quite done, but the boombox challenge was over, leaving the campus unexposed to the likes of "Rollin'." Maybe it was for the best.

Dumbodore est mort

This is the last newspaper=go of the year 2005. We finished at a respectable 11:34.

Then we partied.

Also, Lex Luthor is richer than Bruce Wayne, but not Daddy Warbucks, according to this Forbes article:



Discuss!

This is my definition...

Irony: the two musical guests at VH1's "Big in '05" Awards are INXS and Def Leppard.

Also, I will be into the office after enjoying dinner at my parents' house.

December!

First post of the month! First post in a long time! Chris O!

The preceeding messages are to be read in a high pitch voice.


O'LEARY