There's 20 minutes until the New Year, and my sleeve smells like booze.

So...it's 2006. What I want to know is where are all the friggin' flying cars we were promised when I was younger? Why aren't we colonizing the moon like we were all assured?! WHAT WITH THE NO TIME TRAVELLING?!!??!

Meh, we're probably better off not unravelling the fabric of space and time, risk a moon-dome-rupture and crashing into each other in midair.

Speaking of crashing, I think most of you know via personal contact or MySpace that on January 2nd, my Blazer made its final voyage...yes, it joined my first black Blazer in the big used car lot in the sky after a guy in a Yukon pulled out in front of me as I was in a turn lane. Enough said on the matter, and say all you want about my luck with Blazers but at least this accident wasn't my fault.

I've noticed a trend: Kids with speech impediments in advertisements. Why do people think I'm going to buy a certain brand of toilet paper just because a small child says its "Tewiffic"? Some people might find that adorable, but me?...I just want to give the kid a slap to the back of the head for trying to beguile me in the fashion Satan beguiled Eve. Yeah, the kid might be cute and their lisps, lack of front teeth and scars resulting after daddy had some of his "big boy soda" only add to that sickening facade, but adding it all together crosses the line between precious and annoying. Actually, the people I should REALLY slap is the ad agencies. I mean we're talking a real pride obliterating old-fashioned cupped palm to the ear with a middle knuckle reverse follow up to the temple of the eye. They're the ones who think that hip hop music, fake food, gigantic boobs and using these little kids as shields make me want to buy crap I don't need. Ever notice how the products they have those little kids shillng cost double what other brands do? I'd love to say that the excess funds go to the kids' parents for future counselling but it goes right back to the ad agencies so they can determine more ways to make me not want to buy things just because their magazine spreads, billboads and commercials suck.

Another rant:

Last month Lee, Matt and I threw our friend Roger a 'bachelor party' which consisted of pizza and dvds of the Dave Chapelle show. It was the best bachelor party in the history of bachelor parties. Matt, Roger and I went to the grocery store to buy soda and the whatnot for the shindig, and while we were in the checkout line I noticed a mother pushing a full cart. Upon closer inspection, I noticed that the contents of that cart included a five year old (or close) little girl holding an infant surrounded by lunch meat, frozen dinners and bargain cereal. If it weren't enough to be forced to hold a baby surrounded by foodstuffs, this little girl's head was also violently cocked to one side because she was sitting underneath the seat designed for a baby to sit in on the cart. And why wasn't the baby in this seat? Well this lady needed to put her purse in the seat! Her logic is flawless! There was also another young boy running around the cart whom this woman was yelling at to "Settle his @$$ down"...I guess she had to take him out of the cart in order to make room for the half a dozen packages of cookie dough batter wedged in between her cramped daughter holding a three month old and the half pound of pre-cooked german bratwurst.

The story does not end there, no no no.

As we exited the establishment, laughing merrily about the run-in with the offender of exsessive child-cart-cramming, we passed a tiny car with not one but TWO Saint Bernards in the back seat, and another dog in the passenger seat. I mean come on, two of the biggest dogs imaginable in a transport no bigger then a freaking Geo.

I WONDER WHO THAT CAR BELONGED TO?!?!???1!1?!/?

The evidence just cannot be argued... I'd attempt to track down this purpetrayor of space abuse, but the many hours spent that night of laughing a racial comedy and cramming myself full of pizza erased any memory I had of her description. So, if you happen to be at the grocery store and see children buried under a pile of baked goods and imitation crab flakes, please be sure to call 9-1-1 and report her...please won't someone think of the children? I'm sure they're all adorable with speech impediments to boot, willing to try to sell you a specific brand of laundry detergent Becuase the "Cuhwuhs won't bweed" !

End excessive complaining.

This is Zach, as always saying "Please don't add me to your Block List"