Today I resume work for the first time in three weeks. I have two 100+ page books due by January 19th. Anyone on whether or not I'll actually make it?

(Insider Tip: If you see me hanging out at any point between now and then, start shifting your bets to "no chance in hell.")

Since several people asked, here's the list of DVDs I got for Christmas:

- 2001: A Space Odyssey
- Clockwork Orange
- Hulk
- the Indiana Jones trilogy
- LOTR: Two Towers (extended version)
- A Mighty Wind
- The Nightmare Before Christmas
- Pirates of the Caribbean
- seasons 1, 2, and 3 of South Park
- The Usual Suspects
- season 1 of The West Wing
- X2

Now my biggest concern other than when I'm going to find the time to watch all of this stuff is what am I going to do with all of the old black socks I got rid of when I got the 18 interchangable pairs for Christmas. If you know of anyone who needs some worn but clean black socks, let me know. It feels wasteful to just throw all of them out, but the only other idea I've got is to put on a sock puppet performance of Roots, and I really don't have that kind of time.

I got exactly what I wanted for Christmas: 18 pairs of the exact same brand of black socks. Now I can throw out all of my old ones and never have to worry about matching my socks after doing laundry ever again.

I got a lot of other cool stuff too, including enough DVDs to choke a horse and the 5-CD Johnny Cash boxed set, but I'm very happy about the socks.

I've been awake for about an hour so far, and I'm in considerably less pain than I probably deserve to be, considering the amount of alcohol I consumed, the hour until which I stayed up, and the fact that I actually ate 2/3 of a super-dense La Casita hamburger before going to bed.

Still, I know I'm better off than Bob, whom we will hereafter call Drunk Bob until he checks himself into a much-needed rehab program. I can picture the conversation that his roommates are having with him at this very moment:

"Bob, you were kind of out of control last night."

"Really? What did I do?"

"Well, first you put in Ministry and turned it up so loud that no one could hear each other talk, and you pretty much cleared out the living room."

"Oh, jeez, sorry about that."

"And when we say that no one could hear each other talk, that's not actually true. You were bellowing so loudly that we were getting phone calls from Vancouver telling us to shut you up. That's Vancouver, B.C., by the way."

"Shit, I don't even remember that. Sorry."

"Do you remember opening the bag full of Wolverine action figures that you got for a present and sticking them down your pants, telling Wolverine to fuck you in the ass?"

"Uh, no."

"How about when you threw them across the room and almost embedded them in someone's head?"

"Um..."

"You also spilled about a gallon and a half of Coke everywhere. And look at these pictures of your ass crack! We were getting complaints from the plumber's union about hiring scab workers until we explained that you were just a sloppy moron who can't hold his liquor."

If you see only one movie this year, don't miss Drunk Bob in: Dude, Where's My Dignity?

I just realized that I have no testimonials. So now you know what to give me for Christmas.

Flux's birthday party was a blast. I haven't been to a college party since I graduated five years ago, but I don't remember them featuring so many topless girls with black tape across their nipples. These kids today, I tell ya....

And in other news, my new Alienware PCs are in step 5 of 14 of the production process: "(Pre-Production Inventory Queue phase) Your system is now on queue and awaiting inventory inspection and audit." Whatever that means.

All I know is that I'm five steps closer to having some bad-ass hardware, which means that The Laughing Gear can start writing and recording. And that means that anything and I will soon have a healthy channel for our scientifically replicated faux teen angst.

"Teenage Suicide (Just Do It!)"

I just realized that a handle as righteous as mine couldn't possibly appear in all lowercase, so I added five capital letters to it.

Also, I just ordered my brand new Alienware PCs, which I plan on using to take over the government, just like Richard Pryor in Superman III. I'll be poor as hell, but I'll have the warm glow of my Alienware's red eyes to keep me warm on the streets... provided I can find an outlet to plug it into.

If I were a GoBot, I'd be a transforming low-rider named "Player 1."

I just unarchived and posted a bunch of pictures from my starfucking days. Check out my pics section to see some shots of me with Moby, Twiggy Ramirez, Sascha Konietzko, Kiss midgets, and Glenn Motherfucking Danzig. I should get back into doing the entertainment journalism; it makes me look cool by association.

Christ, two full days after KMFDM, and I still can't turn my head without wincing. That's the problem with having lots of hair--when you hear loud, pounding music, you start to headbang. It's a completely involuntary reaction.

And, of course, the day after the KMFDM show is the day that Slayer decides to release their ass-kicking boxed set, Soundtrack to the Apocalypse (which was coincidentally the name of my college radio show). So I've been listening to that, and I'll start bouncing my head up and down without thinking, and a jolt of pain will shoot up my neck... and I'll do it all over again two minutes later.

The moral of the story is: I'm now an old man, and rock and roll hurts me. I don't even want to think about the state that I'm going to be in after seeing Type O Negative and Cradle of Filth on Dec. 6.

By the way, while watching Seanbaby clone Bile open for KMFDM, anything and I decided that industrial music was a lot easier to perform than we previously thought, so we're putting together an industrial band and are accepting applications. Musical talent is apparently not required.