I'm tired of feeling like the undead. I have no idea what the hell kind of illness I have, but it's no fun. This morning, when I was doing my hourly check of this blog (as I assume you all do, as well), I thought I was having some sort of feverish hallucination when I saw the new design and color scheme. Then I realized that Adam simply put some time and effort into revamping the outdated layout. Looks good, Adam! (You fucker, for erasing our precious comments...) Friend!

I'd like to thank my sister for being our first official follower. Makes me feel even more like the Pied Piper. (I know what you're thinking. "He already feels a little bit like the Pied Piper?" Yes.) Maybe she can let us know just how she'll be alerted of an update. Email? Carrier pigeon? A slight prod, gradually nudging her toward the computer?

My multimedia blog posts shall continue with another video. We saw this guy (heretofore known as Mr. Jams) on Sunday. He was sitting on top of a truck, right beside the Pot of Gold port-a-potty. Despite the fact that no one seemed to be paying attention to him, he was up there, jamming out, lip-syncing the words to all the songs on his killer mix. He was way into it. What's even weirder is that we crossed paths with him the next day. Sadly, he wasn't jamming.