So. Maybe my last post wasn't as epic as I was leading you to believe... but this wouldn't be the first time that I've lied to you. Regardless, maybe this will make up for it.


I wouldn't say that I am famous for what I hate... or more accurately, I'm not well known as a Ben Stiller beat writer (get it? beat? writer? beat writer?), a Kirsten Dunst player hater or the founder of the Anti-Cameron Diaz fan club. Regardless, I do hate a lot of things... and I know how strong of a word hate is.

I've determined that approaching the top of my hate list is stupid elevators.

I don't have time right now to get into specifics... I'm going to get ready to head towards the beach again... you have probably never had the pleasure of meeting stupid elevators, but I assure you if you did, you'd loathe them.


Last night was a decent New Year's eve, considering I had the knowledge that I had to wake up the next morning at 05:30 (or 05:30 if you're an asshole) hanging on my shoulders.

I am heading back down the shore shortly... I will possibly listen to Freeway the entire way down again. It's getting that wrong.

Mun rakas is gone and I missed her deeply last night. Don't make fun. A night at the Hudson House was nothing without my hand down her pants, or whatever. If I had a picture of what down her pants looked like, I'd consider posting it -- being that I'm so sentimental and romantic.

Other than that. I haven't eaten much today so I'm going to split and take care of my stomach. HAppy New Year!

I'm so lame.