Lohan Holiday

It's snowing like bejeebers outside. The giant soap-flake Norman Rockwell variety. Snow is actually chihuahua-retardant, so Barnabas has been staying inside and using Piss Pads(TM) when nature calls. I don't blame him; his underbelly is practically hairless. Nobody wants to be naked in the snow, save those crazy Swedes.

Larry/Douchepacker is inexplicably cuddly today. I can't even type without him jumping into my lap--all ten tons of him--and purring like an idling Hummer. Catblog!

I was up until 3:30 a.m. last night alternately working on my pilot and Googling roller coaster specs. I discovered to my delight that I've ridden a couple of Schwarzkopfs and didn't even know it.

I "made" Christmas cookies last night, and then we decorated them. I didn't think it was possible to get sick of frosting, but after about 12 cookies I've finally driven myself to the brink. Digestive difficulties be damned! There's no such thing as abdominal pain when the Yule log's a-cracklin'!

I just schooled a zit that previously seemed like it might be unpoppable. I win. (And sadly, you all lose for having read that. I have to install a TMI filter in '07.)