Couldn't sleep . . .

Thought I'd write a quick post and turn in. Because, well, it's been ages since I wrote a damn thing.

So, I start off the new year with a good job, a simply wonderful girlfriend, and a house that looks like it was raped by a troupe (flock?) of methed out flying monkeys. Still, it's a great location, and you know what those folks in real estate say: "Don't live near flying monkeys, you jerk."

I'm getting to do more writing for my pal Helen over at MSNBC.com. Being nice to her was the best cold and calculating thing I've ever done, though I can't take too much credit for dastardly Machiavellian forward planning, since she's awesome and hilarious and fun and all that, and I've pretty much liked her since we worked together. She sends me Christmas cards with pictures of her pugs on them for Pugsake!!

Besides, if I were truly Machiavellian, would I be amping up my "writing career" just as writing is maturing into a dying art. The answer, my writerly friends, is "shut your hurtful faces. Shut 'em."

Okay, maybe that'll prime the blogging pump for the rest of this year. It certainly convinced me I need to get some sleep.

Also, am I the last guy to see auto-tune the news? Super funny.