It's been quite a year - some of it up, some of it down, some of it inexplicably zigzagging from the upper left to the lower right corner, some of it horizontal on a couch in my underwear with a box of Thin Mints, some of it staticky like when you tune your TV to channel 122 accidentally, assuming that you don't have digital cable where channel 122 is a fantastic and worthwhile bastion of quality programming, like Country Music Television or the Golf Classics Channel.
I have lots of memories from my year as a bloggerist that I just know I'm going to cherish forever. For example, I remember going to the bathroom at least eight times. And there was something about China. Also, yesterday morning, I commented on the fact that there were the makings of a great joke about bestiality in the phrase "put the cock in Cocker Spaniel," although I didn't actually come up with the joke. And let's not forget all those Thin Mints.
I suppose, if I'm being technical, the "cock in the Cocker Spaniel" non-joke was just beyond the borders of the year in question. It sort of counts more toward next year's anniversary. And truth be told, most of the Thin-Mint eating occurred after the anniversary deadline as well. I have now, on several occasions, had to resort to flossing to remove the excess bits of chocolaty, minty goodness from my molars and the back of my gums, simply so that I could go on smiling at my half-formed jokes about bestiality without humiliating myself. Do you have any idea how embarrassing it is to be walking through the streets of Manhattan laughing about bestiality with chocolate in between your teeth?
I'm pretty sure there are all the ingredients for a joke about a shit-eating grin right there. For FREE! You can thank me later.
Apart from the "cock in the Cocker Spaniel" thing and the Thin Mints (and now the shit-eating grin non-joke too), all the trips to the bathroom, the vague thing about China, and endless cans of fruit, I don't really remember that much about the year I've been writing this. Of course, that could be the Thin Mints talking. I wonder about those things. Can Thin Mints really be trusted? Could there be some connection between the two boxes of Thin Mints and only remembering jokes about dog sex and poop-eating?
Which reminds me, my stepfather's birthday is coming up. I wonder what I should get him?
I guess it would be appropriate to wrap up this post with a look back at the past year of my bloggerization, as told in Thin Mints.
YOU ARE THE ONLY PERSON NOT READING THIS BLOG: THE YEAR IN REVIEW...
This is me, after my first post on the new blog, March 12, 2007. Just look at that shit-eating grin on my face!Here's to another successful, chocolaty, minty year!
Me, leafing through my file of letters to Jesus. Look at that outrage! Look at me shake my fist in defiance of the Golden Rule! (Just kidding, JC, I totally believe in You! Hi to Your Dad!)
One of my favorites - the time Alex Rodriguez, Pervez Musharraf and I were eating mixed cones on a bench in Battery Park. Look at the rivulet of vanilla running down the corner of Pervez's mustache! What a goof!
This is me, Ronny Balboa (yes, that's his real name), and Rex "The Supervisor" Hymen at Halloween '07. You can't even tell it's us, can you? We were plunged into an existential quandary about the through line of our own existence for DAYS afterward!!
Me and Sarah watching George Bush's State of the Union address in January. (I'm the one with the popcorn and the Aqua Pod of water, Sarah is the one flipping off the television set, as if he could see her.)