Hit Some, Buddy

I would recommend that everyone hightail it, at some point, over to Major Bludd's page. There's a pretty kickass entry about Warren Zevon that would have definitely, definitely provoked a river of tears if I were a 15-year old girl on Lithium who was totally in love with Zevon. As it is rather unbecoming for the future world emperor to admit to weeping at the thought of touching sentiments concerning one of his favorite musical artists, I shall relate to you all instead that I promptly opened two bottles of Basil Hayden, held one in each hand, clinked them together, and chugged them both while humming "Roland the Headless Thompson Gunner" through my nostrils.

Christmas shopping nearly defeated, after allowing it to sit smugly behind its fortified walls long enough to get complacent, then springing a surprise, 360-degree assault. My family should just start writing their thank-you notes to Steelers.com. There's a few isolated pockets of resistance that need to be dealt with, but the course is clear. One of the remaining items is a box of .9mm bullets. Does anybody need to ask who it's for? Perhaps. But if you know the Dreadnok I'm talking about, you should be ashamed of yourself for not figuring it out.

Speaking of bullets, and presents, I have my eye on a gift for myself...it'll have to wait till after the holidays, since I have yet to find a reliable source. But check this out and tell me it isn't the super bomb shizbang: