Aaaaaaaaaaand I'm back.

I deleted my account for a while (for all the reasons people delete their accounts) but I couldn't last a month.

There really should be some kind of support group.

"Hi, my name is DrGache and I'm addicted to SG."

ANYWAY, miss me?

I need a vacation. Bad.

Where should I go? I need ideas.

SG should run a contest for hottest friends list.

Cause I'd win. Hands down.

What's with everyone going to the hospital lately?

It's a rough world out there.

"Every day, the New York Times, carries a motto in a box on its front page. "All the News That's Fit to Print," it says. It's been saying it for decades, day in and day out. I imagine most readers of the canonical sheet have long ceased to notice the bannered and flaunted symbol of its mental furniture. I myself check every day to make sure that the bright smug, pompous, idiotic claim is still there. Then I check to make sure that it still irritates me. If I can still exclaim, under my breath, why do they insult me and what do they take me for and what the hell is it supposed to mean unless it's as obviously complacent and conceited and censorious as it seems to be, then at least I know that I still have a pulse."
- Christopher Hitchens

I just bought my first subscription to The New York Times. I am one step closer to becoming the intelligentsia.

Is it weird that I kinda like shoveling snow? I just went out there and lifted and pushed and squatted and at one point I was almost on my back. I came in all flushed and hot. I can't imagine why I enjoyed it so much.

How did this happen? I 1) am mostly Irish, 2) live in Boston and 3) worked for my college radio station. Yet I've never spend any significant time listening to The Pogues? Foolhardy indeed.

The cadillac stood by the house
And the yanks they were within
And the tinker boys they hissed advice
hot-wire her with a pin
We turned and shook as we had a look
In the room where the dead men lay
So big jim dwyer made his last trip
To the home where his fathers laid

Fifteen minutes later
We had our first taste of whiskey
There was uncles giving lectures
On ancient irish history
The men all started telling jokes
And the women they got frisky
By five oclock in the evening - correction this line
Starts with by not at
Every bastard there was piskey

Fare thee well going away
Theres nothing left to say
Farewell to new york city boys
To boston and pa
He took them out
With a well-aimed clout
He was often heard to say
Im a free born man of the usa

He fought the champ in pittsburgh
And he slashed him to the ground
He took on tiny tartanella
And it only went one round
He never had no time for reds
For drink or dice or whores
And he never threw a fight
Unless the fight was right
So they sent him to the war

Fare the well gone away
Theres nothing left to say
With a slainte joe and erin go
My loves in amerikay
The calling of the rosary
Spanish winde from far away
Im a free born man of the usa

I envision going into a job interview. Things go well. We're getting along fine and I can tell I have a pretty good chance of getting it. We stand and shake hands. "I'm sorry. I have to ask. Are you DrGache?" We exchange a smile and I've got my desk set up by Tuesday.