Happy extra-birthday?

Today, I feel like a man. Which is to say, I ate pasta directly out of the pot I cooked it in... no plate needed. That, sirs, means I am no longer a child... but a bachelor.

In a society devoid of traditions, we must create our own rights of passage. So you can bite me.

Anyway... let's see... I got presents! Lots of 'em! Good ones! Most extravagant, by far, would be a Palm Pilot of my very own, for organizational and entertainmenticatal purposes. I got it a while back, actually, before I left for New York, but I had not had the opportunity to mention it. It's got a built in camera, and a bunch of spiffy features (though I think I might look into a nicer case for it, the one that came with is sufficient, but unstylish). In the grand tradition that I have of naming all my electronic devices after SF AIs, I have opted to dub my little friend the Pocket-sized Doodad. Anyone who gets the reference earns ten points.

Furthermore... some shirts and candy, and a book, and a CD of novelty music (which is really my genre, you know), and a whole lot of happy. Yay! Also, Deb took me out to toast marshmallows! And the eat them! SUGAR ON FIRE! SUGAR ON FIRE!

As far as my other birthday plans went, I did not go on a raging bender... but I did wear a silly hat of Meg's design. And I did not get meaningless sex... but I did get a cute girl's phone number! A cute girl with no interest in me... who lives far away... with a boyfriend. It's still good! Um... I successfully hated authority though... namely, the authority of the Octuple 'P' Promise. It just flaunted that bastard. And I might continue to do so! Take that! You ain't getting a hundred words today! How you feel about that, people?

Oh, damn. Ne'ermind. Tomorrow, then. Take that.

Oh yeah, the brightness is back... hope y'all enjoy it. Ducky seems happy, even though he didn't get his hole back. Say "lah vee".