We're making good time.

The year 2009 is almost over and I'd like to address it thusly:

Fuck you, 2009. You really phoned it in. I made the best with what you gave me and I think I did a bang-up job, but DAMN. You didn't help me out at all. Throw me a friggin' bone here. Your high point was my trip to L.A.- which rocked my socks off. But everything else that happened was only made good by me. I know that I have to make my own opportunities and shit, but, come on. Usually something good, no matter how small, will fall into my lap each year. You gave me nothing. Thanks a lot.

At least you went by fast. Your suck didn't stick around for TOO long. And you've only got 13 more days to piss me off. Have at it.

But I guess none of this really means anything since I wouldn't change a single shitty thing you did to me. Dammit, I hate you but I appreciate you. So, 2009, you win. You were the best worst year of my life.

Fuck you.