Crappy New Year

Well, it's 2006. I don't know why everyone gets so excited; it'll be May before I stop making the mistake of dating things with an '05.

Like the past several years, I spent my New Year's Eve in the basement covered by bubble wrap, surrounded by an armload of cereal, carrots, and string cheese. The true crazies are the people who store only non-perishables: practical individuals such as myself know you need just enough rations to hold you for a few days before heading above ground to eat the dead.

The dead, of course, being the millions of people who decided to party and not barricade themselves from the impending apocalypse. The mere fact that you're reading this entry indicates that armageddon didn't occur, but it'll happen one of these years.

Paranoid? Perhaps, but y'all bought into it, too, back during the Y2K scare. If computer errors were believed to be the cause of our destruction, who's to say that an additional computer error didn't get the date wrong? Some kind of arithmetical glitch made everyone panic about the year 2000, but when the real terror spreads in, oh, maybe 2007, the skeptics won't be prepared or protected.

At any rate, have a good year everyone... it may be your last.