Friday the 13th. An auspicious omen.

It's not been a year quite that "Make a Name" has been doing just that, but I don't care.
I just noticed today while perusing my stats that the readership of this here monkey has shot up and is steadily gaining.

And it's all thanks to YOU.

So this ones for you, dear viewer.
--For spending valuable moments of your day:
--Perusing my patter.
--Critiquing my commentary.
--Supporting my scribbles.

As a show of gratitude; and a little sipple of some thing sweet, I bequeath upon you -- New Years Photos. [Muchas gracias to all the excellent photographers who aided and abetted me in the getting of these pictures.]

Buckle is Undone..or Outdone. However the case may be.

I was sick as a dog (tummy bug) so whilst the world frolicked and reveled I sat, like a orange ball of weakness, watching all those Eaters, Drinkers and BeMerriers stagger past. This was taken in the 15 minute slot that I actually strolled around in the social stream....

Whaddya know, my Gatorade Cap ACTUALLY color-coordinated nicely with my sweater. (Sorry, guys, for ruining a perfectly good picture, it was irresistible...wait,
I'm pretty sure Michelle is looking at her own breasts and Mike is checking out my...jeans)

p.s. This is the infamous "Fester Sweater". I will wear it all Winter long without changing so long as no one forcibly removes it from my person.
I love.
I fester.

The most handsome man at the ball. Don't let the red eye throw you off, he's a Mad Charmer.

...and the hottest whoman. True to form, Just Leaving. Danggit.

Jazz, dreaming of Apocalyptic Annihilation, no doubt. What a swellfer!

And traditionally: a picture from the Year before.
The New Years where I talked to people I didn't know and asked them questions that they couldn't answer.
The one that I played guitar with a chick and she gave my a microphone, "just because" and I knew that from "now on" would keel me over and I wouldn't be able to handle it but it was

A-OK because THIS year everything I touch will turn to Gold.
Solid gold.

Fo' Shiznit.


A man said...

That there damn hippie with them there red eyes of'ims, could sure use a damn hair cut. I'd like to sick my momma on him. Teachem ow ta be a maaaan not a woman.

BarbarianDave said...

You make a me laugh!

lynC said...

She has stats.


Anonymous said...

BREASTS?? or the lack thereof.. it's the thought that counts though, right?