Also, some sort of pool, I guess?

It's New Year's Eve, boys and girls on the vast and inescapable Internet! You know what that means... right! Seven swans a-swimming! Mmm hmm, a septet of ugly ducklings doing their best waterfowl shtick, being all 'graceful' and 'elegant' and 'only honking when they're about to die'. Yeah, I never really got the whole swan song thing, is that at all valid? I mean, I don't hear 'em calling at all hours of the day or night when they aren't dying, no, but I don't have the heart to let my vorpal blade go snicker-snack in their direction, just to see if they'll made some awkward warbling as their curtain metaphorically draws. Well, maybe I'll do it with these Christmas swans, because let's face it, true love of mine, I don't have the room for anymore birds. Really, I'm up to my bellybutton in the little feathery bastards. So, no more birds please. (Hopefully this gets us back to the precious metals.)

Oh! And a big old happy twenty-aught-five to y'all. I'm going to be watching Conan O'Brian do the Midwest countdown, like I do every year, because he's the only person who cares enough about my people to count backwards from ten for us. Then, it's off to my grandparents' for the weekend, so if I don't feel like a right after midnight post, I'll probably have to phone it in all lazy-style. Eh, say lah vee. See voo play? Meh-nage ah twah? No... meh-nage ah an, put et-reh doo, pah twah. Bon noo-ee!