Spent New Year's eve at home alone, had no drop of alcohol and dropped no acid, went to bed at 8:30PM, woke up at 3:30AM with the worst headache in recent memory, spent the morning on my hands and knees, worshiping the porcelain throne, throwing up multiple times.
Had a dream this morning I went into a crowded bathroom to check the size of my pants, emerged to find Eliot Spitzer talking on a cell phone, shook his hand, he talked into the phone about something being "long and hard," I squeezed his hand and laughed, he looked at me unsure if I was kidding or not, the sun shining around his head like he was Jesus.
This year? Don't know about this year. Strange.
