*bitter defeat*

Translation: "20,000 Hits for an Awesome Website"

I return from Miami to find that there's been something of a milestone: *BD* reached the 20,000 hit mark. It's like missing your retarded child's first slurred attempt at speech! Okay, so you gotta figure around 25% of those hits would be yours truly doing site maintenance, etc., but we're just going to ignore that, right? Twenty thousand hits is rad. Thanks to all of you for reading almost two years worth of self-indulgent bullshit.

Not much has changed since day one. In fact, it's been pretty much the same thing, day in, day out. Some rants, some lists, and roughly every tenth post is about Pete Doherty. Groundbreaking stuff. If only every post could be the hangover guide. Talk about peaking too soon. In fact, a quick look through the last two year's worth of stuff reveals one inescapable truth: I used to be funnier. Or at least I used to have more free time on my hands. Perhaps both. Whatever the case, the management solemnly promises that this site will improve.*

Anyhoo, as obsessive list making is a *bitter defeat*...um... obsession, here's a fun fill-in-the-blank iPod activity [Thanks, Matt]. If I understand correctly, you put your iPod on shuffle, and use each consecutive song to answer the following questions:

How does the world see you?

Will I have a happy life?

What do my friends really think of me?

Do people secretly lust after me?

How can I make myself happy?

What should I do with my life?

Will I ever have children?

What is some good advice for me?

How will I be remembered?

What is my signature dancing song?

What do I think my current theme song is?

What does everyone else think my current theme song is?

What song will play at my funeral?

What type of men/women do you like?

What is my day going to be like?

Apparently the random songs somehow fit the questions and it's all neat or something. I haven't done it yet, but it seems highly unlikely.

Oh, one last thing: can someone help me become Photoshop proficient? This is the best I could do:



*In reality, the management makes no such promise. Something about writing checks your ass can't cash.