2009-01-12 - 10:35 p.m.

�����It's cold.

�����And my car rattles.

�����Sometimes my head rattles.

�����Jim Rice got voted into the Baseball Hall of Fame today.

�����Battlestar Galactica Season 4.5 starts Friday. It's the final batch of episodes. I'll be celebrating at Casa de Cole.

�����I saw Vampire Weekend AND David Sedaris last month and they both surpassed my already high expectations. If I can get tickets again, I'm going to go see V.W. again. Who's with me??

�����Lost Season 5 starts the 21st. New Lost Parties!! We've kept the Pineapple bunting and Aloha sign up since the Season 4 Finale Party. Most of the Y's are gone now. Babyfied, Canadafied or Law Schoolified. That'll happen. Who'll be in charge of Twizzlers without Hal-Y?!

�����My new job - well, "new" since the last time I wrote here waaaaay back in September - is going well. I don't dream of ways to kill myself and take the whole popsicle stand down with me like I did in the days of the Diamond Mines. Or the Danger Mouse. Or Dolphin Mumps. Whatever it was I called it when I called it things. My new job is like strawberry floss on a May evening full of muted crickets. Cliche, but true.

�����I'm pretty addicted to Facebook. Well, actually less so than when I first signed up about a year ago. That was a year ago? Sometime around there, I suppose. Facebook has brought me much ease in keeping in touch with my life's audience. Even some charter members from Maycomb County have dunked into my orbit. It messes up my slumber sometimes but it's worth it. I wish that four of the people I wish I was in touch with more often would breakdown and join the rest of society (I'm looking at you Cypruss Hill T.C., Frederick, Coty, Jason & Hannah), but ah well, so it goes.

�����I went to the gym tonight and it kicked my ass. Which is good. Sometimes I feel like I need a good ass kicking. My brain caught fire last night - boy, did it! - and it won't be long before my wheel catches close behind. Sure, I may be lactose intolerant. But I'm not going to let that hold me back. And I'm not going to let the lack of a fancy ballroom or solid gold rocket car stop me either. I'm a-gonna make these wheels smoke and all you little acorn whistlers will wish you were lactose intolerant by the time I'm done. Or at the very least make you wish that you were dunking in my orbit.

��������It's been real,

������������Doc Cottle

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<-- Back to the Salt Mines! - Onward, to the Bee-Mobile! -->

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