01/01/2004 - 8:50 p.m. | i wanna be part of the human race

We'll just skip the lame introductions and get on to the meat of the thing or whatever.

So, we eventually decided that no matter who was going skiing or not, we'd all head up to Wisconsin because there would be something to do there, right? I mean, I could hit on snow hunnies and stuff (I know, snow bunnies, but snow hunnies is a lot dumber, so we go with it). I got shotgun once again. Actually, the only time I didn't get shotgun was when I gave it to Bill for the 2 minute ride from the gas station to the lodge. I rule. Anyway, it was supposed to be a pretty fast trip, but traffic was completely backed up on 90. For no apparent reason. To pass the time, we sang. Loudly and poorly. I started screaming the White Stripes out the window, which I guess people could actually hear. Scary. I'm getting closer and closer to being able to just remember Lewis Black routines. Sad, sad.

Anyway, even though we were at the skiing place like 5 hours, I wasn't the least bit bored. After Ducky and Bill got situated (which took forever, I might add... Ducky is like an old woman when it comes to changing and stuff), I lurked about the lounges and read. I sort of just wandered into the over 21 one. The guard or whatever kept looking at me, but I ignored him. I did sort of forget the crucial fact that snow bunnies go to ski places to ski and not sit around in the ghetto lodge, so that was sort of a bust, but who am I kidding anyway? I wouldn't have said shit. Probably.

Ducky and Bill came in for nachos (We kept making "nacho cheese" jokes), and then I set out on a little adventure of my own. To Nig's!!! :D Ducky's car might have been really easy to drive, I dunno, but it seems as though I've finally integrated manual transmissions into my programming. It was so much fun! I sang 80's tunes, tried desperately not to get lost, failed, and eventually made it to the Dells, which was only about 20 minutes away. The whole strip was just this big line of bars, though, so I was having a hard time finding the specific one I was searching for. Since I figured I had time, I engaged porn banshee mode. No dice. The damn Dells are too wholesome. Meanwhile, Bill fell over and got a concussion or something and was trying to call me. Oops. Finally found the place, bought the shirts (They smell like cigarettes!), and zoomed back. And got lost again. Actually, I just went the wrong way on the road the place was on, and I did sort of quickly realize my mistake. Ducky was no help when I called. "What road is the place on?" "12?" Highway 12 is down by Madison. Thank you.

I parked very far away because I am an asshole, and then we began our journey back to Bill's. We stopped to eat at Burger King (arg), and the cashier started giving me crap about my weight. If there is one flaw to being so skinny, it would be the sporadic diarrhea. If there were two flaws, it would be the diarrhea and all the crap I get from people less skinny than me. As always, I got the warning about how it will catch up with me in the end, which I assume is a joke about my ass. I sincerely do not like Burger King, so I went to Arby's and hassled the staff for some roast beef. I even sicken myself sometimes. Like the fact that it is after 4 already.

Once we got through screaming Radiohead through mouthfuls of meat products, Ducky and I started throwing around the idea that Bill should have been The One in The Matrix instead of Keanu Reeves and began addressing him accordingly. Bill certainly didn't let down his end of the bargain and yelled insane things that were never in context at all. "The clouds finally go away, and now it's dark!" Ohhhhh.

This is the fucking entry that just won't end. I got a good deal ahead on it, and then Explorer crashed. Thank you, everyone. I meant to cover all the way up to today, but perhaps I will just get through what's left of the 30th and then I will stop for a bit. Good idea.

After we got back to Bill's, he retreated to his room for the nerdetry while Ducky and I tried to find our own on TV. I would say we managed. We found this one show called "X-Fire," which is this British game show that's sort of like a live version of "Counterstrike." The teams of contestants are given various missions (disarm a bomb, rescue hostages, and whatnot) and have to shoot various terrorists with paintballs while avoiding getting shot themselves. They get points, which they use to buy things and for rankings. Anyway, it's pretty retarded. They all have ridiculous costumes (the costume the women wear includes ready made plastic cleavage!) and have to play dead and all. This was followed by some terrible anime about a red balloon and some world of childhood wonder or something. Fucking anime.

After more episodes of "I Love the 70's" than any one person should ever see, Ducky and I decided that we should go to bed. We didn't actually go to bed until several hours later, but at least we made a decision. In the meantime, we talked for a while, and as is way too typical for us, the topic became Back to the Future, namely the third installment. OK, you know how at the end of it, Doc comes back to 1985 in the crazy time travellin' steam engine? OK, what the hell? He notes that it is steam powered, but as we all know, it takes a nuclear reaction (or a well-placed lightning bolt) to generate the 1.21 gigawatts of electricity needed to power the flux capacitor and make time travel possible. There is no way steam could do that shit. So, where did Doc get the power? After much discussion, we decided he probably used Chinese migrant workers. We aren't sure how exactly, but he's the genius here. That decided, I stumbled into the kitchen to get some lumpy V8 Splash. As I walked back in, I said something - dunno what exactly - and Ducky asked, "Wait - did you just say Ho Tran Bill?" No, but I wish I had. This quickly led to a wild discussion wherein Bill lost his title as The One and instead became Ho Tran Bill Conroy, a Chinese migrant worker who, with his best friend Ping Pong, dug up plutonium in the mines of Hill Valley. After we had thoroughly discussed the subject (and cackled like lunatics), we ran to tell Bill. He had no idea what we were talking about. I guess you might not either. Then we slept.

OK, that only took like 7 hours. TO BE CONTINUED, all right?