On the Eighth Day of Christmas, my true love gave to me

Seven,


Six

Five

Four,

Three,

Two,

and a.

p.s. Happy New Year to my readers, old and new. More of you show up every day, which just goes to show you that the Republicans are right about one thing; everything that happens can be viewed as a business opportunity. Television writers go on strike, and my blog numbers go up. Coincidence? I think not.

I promise I'll have something interesting to say any day now, once I finish entertaining people, but honestly ... since Christmas I've had two days where I haven't been hosting some gathering or other. This Martha Stewart routine is fun, but fattening ... and I'd like to get back to normal soon.

Tomorrow is New Year's Lunch with my brother and his family. We'll have a Yankee version of Hopping John, sauteed greens, and fried chicken. A lot of food will be eaten, booze will be drunk, jokes will be told, and then I hope everyone will go away and leave me in peace so that I can commune with the Internet in my usual anti-social maladjusted fashion. Because this real-life, in-your-face, "We Are Family" stuff is kind of overwhelming. I need some quality time with my laptop.