Picture your Grandmother In Hell. Baking pies without an oven.

OK, so I've not Snoop-Bloggy-Blogg-Featuring-Nate-Blogged for a while now.

Where to start?

I played golf today, shot 86 from the blues, despite some horrendous shots. I'm the proud owner of Radiohead tickets. I watched the entire Academy Awards show for the first time ever. I've grown fond of Canada Dry ginger ale. I've grown a beard.

I spent an hour yesterday watching George Carlin's new HBO comedy special on YouTube. Absolutely hilarious. Here's part one of seven:



Well worth your time, my friends (McCain!), believe me. (Click on the responses to watch parts 2-7)

Work is going well, despite the fact that the parent company is, like most newspaper outlets, going through some tough times. No more overtime and no extraneous expenses, which means I'll be sending myself to Poynter's upcoming sports journalism summit, which should be a great learning experience (I'll say hello to Plaschke for you) despite the fact that it'll cost me a small fortune. The big race is coming up in less than two weeks, and I'll be putting the final edits on our 56-page race tab tomorrow. It will be nice to get that albatross off the deck.

March signals the month of visitors, starting next week with Brandon (and perhaps a Hemson/Lyndsay tandem?) and continuing throughout the month with four Gjurg's and two Cutsforths. I can't wait to show my family around town and spend my dad's 50th (!) with him. We'll hit up Disney World, catch a ballgame or two, hike around Highlands Hammock, visit a caged 14-foot gator and revel in the Florida sun.

And I swear, I will document it all.

Right. Here.