Shingles & New Year Cringles

Having re-activated my chickenpox virus due to "stress" and "a low immune system," I find myself on the brink of a new year, preventing myself from celebrating.

The disease is called Shingles and I've been told it's more likely to happen in old people.....Hollywood has obviously aged me.

Yours truly will be AT HOME when the clock strikes midnight. But hopefully sufficiently drugged up on Atarax to have my own internal party and optimistic wishes for the coming year. Being sober on New Year's Eve is atune to being a sexaholic, transvestite, Jew in Al-Queda. Proudly, I will be that Jew.

London louts, you can have your pubs and pints. I'll be finishing my first draft feature film stoned on prescription meds when the clock strikes.

Might as well start the new year with something tangible. Life's too short.

R.I.P. Bhutto.

Procrastination & Presents

3 months is really too long to call this an active blog, so how about I start my New Year's resolution early and keep this thing up-to-date.

Trusting as I am, I ordered my brothers a pair of T-Shirts from Threadless.com and had them sent to my London address. They have of course not arrived yet and I find myself facing the annoying fact that they might not get here in time for Christmas.

What does this mean? I'll have to shop for alternatives on Christmas Eve and present the Ts as bonus New Year gifts.

With my starving artist staus and the exchange rate'n'all, I am qualified to buy my lovely siblings nothing more than drugstore soap, manly drugstore soap hopefully, as my brothers ages are 23 and 20.

I find myself missing the 99c store at this time of crisis.

Pray for the T-shirts to get here!!!