"..shorter of breath, and one day closer to death."

Yes friends, its that day of the year again. Late December, the most important birthday of the year. No uncertainty or fictitiousness about this one, unfortunately.

I'll be spending my day playing games, and making sure to not be heading uptown on an empty stomach. The night will undoubtedly be spent drinking, and fielding questions about if/when/why/why not I'm going back to school/work; questions that I've been hearing all to often lately. I suppose if I'd just make up my mind it would make things a lot easier. Perhaps I'll just go with lying to people for the night. In any case, I'm sure the questions will be met with abrupt responses, so if you're reading this ahead of meeting me at the bar tonight, you've been warned. If you're not reading it till after you've talked to me tonight, you know why I was that way.

And here's hoping I'm actually functional enough tomorrow to go out and finish grabbing a few little gifts for x-mas so I don't have to go out at all this weekend in the madness.

Cheers.


Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day
You fritter and waste the hours in an off hand way
Kicking around on a piece of ground in your home town
Waiting for someone or something to show you the way

Tired of lying in the sunshine staying home to watch the rain
You are young and life is long and there is time to kill today
And then one day you find ten years have got behind you
No one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun

And you run and you run to catch up with the sun, but its sinking
And racing around to come up behind you again
The sun is the same in the relative way, but youre older
Shorter of breath and one day closer to death

Every year is getting shorter, never seem to find the time
Plans that either come to naught or half a page of scribbled lines
Hanging on in quiet desperation is the english way
The time is gone, the song is over, thought Id something more to say

Home, home again
I like to be here when I can
And when I come home cold and tired
Its good to warm my bones beside the fire
Far away across the field
The tolling of the iron bell
Calls the faithful to their knees
To hear the softly spoken magic spells.
Time - Pink Floyd

Crackdown

It appears that there is some kind of crackdown on liquor licensed venues in the area. I understand shutting down strip clubs because of contact between the patrons and the girls, but is revoking a license from a bar because people go there to drink really necessary?

The Stampede Corral in Kitchener is losing it's liquor license for 15 days. The Alcohol and Gaming Commission of Ontario issued the suspension after an incident in May of this year.
In a release the Commission said drunken patrons were observed in the bar.

These people must have been a wreck, else the officer on hand had a real stick up their ass; probably because they were forced to be hanging around observing the goings on at the Stampede.

In news that would also seem to be explained by lots of drinking, bloggers Danielle and Chad got engaged while I was neglecting reading this week. Something that can be proposed over Gmail chat can't be all bad, or can it? In any case, congratulations are in order.

And now its time to go grab some booze before the weather drops a big white turd everywhere.

Fun Fact Friday...Part One?

Charles Darwin was formally educated in Theology, and married his first cousin. He also apparently invented irony.

Darwin didn't study African or European swallows; he studied finches, at least so far as the H.M.S. Beagle was concerned. His wife was English as well and, being his first cousin, was clearly open-minded. Thus, the European swallow may have been an inevitable 'hobby study'.

Schneider Weisse is still a delicious winter beer.

It is the weekend.

I am out of Schneider Weisse.

Old Lane Sign?

I've managed to deflect plans from going to Niagara Falls for New Years, which I had neither the money, nor particularly the energy for, to relaxing around here, playing some games, enjoying fondue, and drinking with friends. Getting smashed with friends is after all the point of yet another arbitrarily set holiday. New beginnings, resolutions, blah blah blah, there's really no significance to the day anyways, except that its the day of the Rose Bowl. And that's not til 5 which means I'll have plenty of time to clean up and sober up before I watch Michigan show that they really should have been in the title game.

In other news, the sasquatch has invaded the wooded areas of the Waterloo moraine. Sasquatch's girlfriend appears to enjoy taking pictures of sasquatch's moss stained crotch, and hitting him there with knees, or foosball table handles at every available opportunity.

Aftermath Redux

I'm happy to report there was no drunken frollicking in the snow associated with birthday drinking this year. I'd like to attribute it to maturity and better handling of my liquor this time around, but mostly I think it was the lack of snow.

The night was a blast. Lots of drinking, kissing cousins, and only one prairie fire to contend with. That one prairie fire came too early in the evening to be handled smoothly, but really there's no good time to take prairie fires.

Later in the evening, the night turned into a small highschool reunion, with another buddy of mine since elementary school showing up with a group of friends. Its funny how with some people the gossip and drama don't get left behind somewhere. I did my best to leave all of those things in the long locker lined hallways of my highschool, but for some people its good entertainment. I suppose looking in from the outside on those same situations has its own entertainment value, just not in the same ways.

And so another birthday is gone by, as is the associated hangover, and now its time for some poker to try to aid the coffers that have already been drained by the holiday season.