January brought us Triple H's quadriceps tear and the short lived RAWnaissance. I started getting hyped up for 28 Weeks Later, which ultimately lived up to my expectations for the most part. Keith debuted an excellent new character that fizzled out about as quickly as the aforementioned RAWnaissance, but I'll always remember Keith Jackson: Problem Drinker fondly. The band ~! came into being, shortly before it ceased to be. Funky D took Funkdefy to its new home at the Rumba Cafe, and Wrestling Society X teased me with its short-lived glory.
February was a month of poor box office predictions by Lee, my devotion to my new i-Pod growing deeper, and Amy Smart having loud sex outdoors. It was a good 28 days.
March was melancholy. Ben's dog died, I missed my own dog, and probably watched that rascal Eddie on Frasier to cheer myself up.
April and May theoretically occurred, so there's no blogidence to corroborate that. June was much the same, though there was just enough activity to make some question my sexuality, I'm sure.
July was the great relaunch, and the beginning of the Jenna era. It was a weird time. Chris Benoit had just gone (or finished going) completely out of his mind, Patton Oswalt had a new album out, and the second broccasion swept Ruby Tuesday like a wildfire. ~! went out on a good note (PUN INTENDED), I became obsessed with that Islands song, and Scott Baio got his own reality show. The best picture ever happened, Jon Lovitz kicked Andy Dick's ass, I got all philosophical about TNA just before I stopped caring about them all together, and the Heroes of History got REALLY, REALLY GOOD. Ring of Honor debuted on pay per view, Andrew finished watching the 3rd season of The Office, and those girls of Gilmore got a sexy, new box set. I missed Lee's commenting, arrived way too late at the party to realize how great the UMCs are, and said goodbye to Chops and Mandy. Scott Patterson turned out to be a Clipper, John Krasinski got a chance at being a leading man, and DJ OPS moved about half a block. Josh got in on The Office fun after some gentle prodding, Harry Potter gave us a really long trailer, and Fire Pro Wrestling Returns was announced for a U.S. release.
August got off to a rollicking start as I saw Blades of Glory, deepening my affection for Jenna. Cody threatened to buy an SUV, I read the great Moneyball, and I started a doomed love affair with a Japanese professional wrestler. Funky D played out with the Dolby Fuckers, but he's not biased. The Office overtook Farscape as my favorite television show of all time, we all gave big props to the Space Monster for bringing the blog out of its doldrums, I met Scotty, and Adam Baldwin was underutilized. Office fan art scared even me, the first major blog streak ended at 33, I traveled to Kentucky, and I hated David Cross. Jenna starred in a depressing music video that ended up being sort of prescient, the shit hit the fan for WWE, and I really wanted a Jim Loves Pam shirt.
September reminds me of one thing more than any other: hatred of the Emmys. There were other highlights as well, though. The Office returned for it's fourth season, the Big Ten Network made life difficult for Buckeye fans all over Columbus, bears beat Battlestar Galactica, and Jenna and James SPLIT while the national media were a bunch of dicks about it. Paz Vega retroactively became the second hottest woman on the planet, Sid was not Vince McMahon's illegitimate son, Hulk Hogan used the power of Hulkamania to fell the World Trade Center, and we marched for Daymon. I got mad at Hunter for one reason or another, Aja should have directed the other Hills Have Eyes movie, and Joan Rivers said something catty about my Jenna. The blog nation turned heel, the Dixie Chicks were fantastic, Studio 35 failed at life, and Road Warrior Animal cut a promo on the Northwestern football team, and possibly the entire state of Illinois. I hated Tom Batiuk for the first of many times, Ken Burns brought the awesome, Alan Greenspan was a coward, and Joey Fatone may have nailed Britney. My sister angered the Lord, I began to feel the dark sway of the Browns backers pulling me in, and a fly fell in my beer.
October was quite the deal. I rediscovered my crush on Buffy the Vampire Slayer (the character, not the show), Sharon Jones' new album was really good, Lisa died, Ed Helms tried to rack jack me, and Pushing Daisies was delightful. Bennigan's disappointed, Gossip Girl provided just the right touch of trash for my Wednesday nights, and my grandfather turned 80 without anyone choking him. Andrew Dan-Jumbo couldn't possibly be straight, Andrew and Jason kicked me out of their tree house, and Kristal Marshall was somehow released. Krasinski turned 28 and mugged, there was a most rocksome Halloween party thrown down the street, and I dabbled in SKROBBLING. I won Halloween Movie Marathon for the second straight year, Andrew became obsessed about why I can't get over Montreal, and I got REALLY HIGH to write the final blog entry of the month.
November sucked. Dave kept saying "Olivia One", Kate Winslet couldn't win an Oscar to save her life, not to mention my lack of a PBR hat. COTA redesigned their site, I couldn't watch Uno, Due, Tre, Stalla! in this country, and the writers went on strike. Soulja Boy Tell 'Em continued to ruin my life, nobody but me and Adam appreciated Crispin Glover properly, and Lucio Fulci was praised way too much for my tastes. Eddy and ODB were still dead, the new Office PC game sucked large, and nobody asked for Zamfir to return. Columbus Alive was fit for a bird cage, Abe lived too far away to watch The Office in a timely manner, and Mark Valley didn't have a new show. Jenna and Buffy posed for a photo together and melted my brain, WHERE WAS WIGS' SOLO JOINT?!, and a leprechaun ran through a brick wall.
December was actually a nice way to close out the year, all things considered. The Big Doe Rehab dropped, the Bengals rallied to finish 7-9, Whirry defied death itself, and the Luchagors were frigging awesome. Kenta Kobashi returned after being almost as impressive as Whirry in trumping cancer, I ROFFLED @ Powerglove (still sorry about that, Paul), and Dreamcast haters were SHOOK. Earthbound manga was uncovered, I dusted off the Alex Wright dance to Funky D's dismay and the ladies' delight, and Uncle Adam gave me something to keep track of the days with. Mario Mario came out of the closet while Luigi Mario banged Princess Peach. I became a Widget maniac, the same people who dissed my Dreamcast celebrated the inferior sequel to Tecmo Super Bowl, and Billy Dee Williams was better than Carl Weathers. Custom Legos were marveled at, Krasinski was a Michael Hayes fan, Greg Oden became a video game cover boy, and strategy football came to your home console! The Bengals beat the Browns, which may not have been such a good thing in retrospect, and I got ALL OF BUFFY. The TV show that is. On DVD. My So What? Wednesdays streak continued unabated, Wild Zero was "EH", and finally, to close out the month of giving, of compassion, of friendship, Tony Dungy was a huge D-bag.
Now... wasn't that fun? I leave you with this, my most favorite picture of all time, making its third appearance here on Bride of the Blog That Wouldn't Die Meets the Space Monster. Oh, and be careful tonight, huh?
You're welcome. Have a Happy New Year.
3 comments:
And that's the game! 2007 narrowly defeats 2004 173 to 172! Someone remind me why I think this is a big deal again...
Have a Nappy New Year! Hey, that's pretty good, eh? You can use it if you like. That is if you or one of your witty friends hasn't coined it already.
Here's to the new year. May it be a damn sight better than the last one.
Colonel Potter for the win.
Okay, I'm done now.
Later.
Well written. I'll have to go back and figure out this treehouse business. 173~!
That's right. It's like the world's gayest scavenger hunt.
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