A snowflake in my eye... I'd better use this firework to clean that up.

Ok. So, maybe a road trip in a land known for snow wasn't my finest idea ever, but never one to quit - drive we did. Luckily for us, the lady at the car rental place knew that the compact car we had booked would probably be blown into a river, so she advised that we hire a bigger one. She also advised that we hire a gps, and I think that I may nominate her for sainthood for that little gem. Most useful thing ever.

So, off we popped. getting out of NY city was actually not as hard as I thought it would be, and we were on the road in no time. We drove and drove and drove some more, I found some cool energy drinks, so when we drove past the sign to the fireworks store, I was buzzing for more reasons than one. Oddly, Kat was not excited at all about the fireworks. My mind was boggling but I didn't let that stem my childish joy at finding a surplus of things that could blow my face off. I made a little video log of this event, but that won't be posted until I let them off, hopefully tonight. In the meantime, here is a pic of the wares I chose.

So, after the fireworks store, we drove on. We had to stop, cos the interior lights were on, and we thought we had left a door open. I made Kat get out in the freezing snow and test them all, but the light stayed on. We were baffled, until I realised that I had turned the lights on when I was fiddling with the controls earlier. Kat was less than pleased, but I chalked that down to hilarious road trip experience and wore Kat's punch as a token of her jovial agreement. Further on, she complained and I agreed that we were hungering for some fresh fruit and veg. I asked her why she didn't buy an apple at the last service station we visited. She answered that it was probably covered with spermicide... at least it won't make baby apples.
Since the drive was a little harder than I had anticipated on account of all the white stuff, we stayed overnight in a motel in a place called Dansville. The diner advertised all you can eat crab legs, but I went for a ten dollar steak instead. I ordered it still mooing for its mother, and it was perfect, I almost cried - ten bucks for a juicy steak in a crab scented diner - heaven.

We slept in a bit the next day - we had watched a lovely program about a guy who murdered another guy and somehow I had trouble sleeping in our little tiny isolated motel...
So, we arrived a bit later than I had thought we would, but in plenty of time to go out and get smashed. The bar had a band that actually was pretty good, despite the bald guitarist adopting a hardcore gun slinging stance that better suited Jimmy page. The waitress told me 'I love your voice!' and i said 'You haven't heard me sing.'
Sunday we slept til midday, recovering, and then we popped down to the mall. In keeping with my NY experience, nowhere had any snow boots that fit me, so I continued to slip n slide through the snow in my street shoes. I hadn't been to that mall in six years, and it still smelled the exact same. Weird.

Monday we got up and going earlier. I slid the car into a snow bank again, turns out the rental has lousy traction. Fun, scary, fun over and over. We got to town, found a park and as I was digging change out of my pocket, I heard Kat talking to someone. He was about maybe 50-60 years old and was telling her the tale of his hitch hiking trip across Australia. He then explained where he was going - a store called Kingsmill's - the last department store in North America with elevator operators. He said we had to see it. I said we would, but after we ate. He then insisted he buy us a pizza, he wouldn't take no for an answer, so off we popped. It was huge. And covered in delicious meat. After Kat got done picking hers off, it was pretty much a cheese slice for her. This guy's name is Neile. He likes to do one kindness for a stranger each day. he also bought us chocolate milk. This is Canadian ethos at its finest. After we were done, we then went to Kingsmill's and found Neile again. This is Neile. He asked us for a postcard from Paris. I'm gunna send him one from everywhere, he'll end up with enough to plaster a dunny.

Monday night I was very excited about! We set off to meet the Forest City Derby Girls. The minger of a gps took us on every single frickin highway it could find, and it must be known that HIGHWAY DRIVING SUCKS ACE HERE IN THE WINTER, so we were late. I have to admit, I expected some sort of sports centre. No. These girls are pure hardest core. They train in winter in a BARN. Behold:
I have never seen such commitment to this sport! They drive out here, in the middle of woop woop and train in sweaters and all! I have never trained in thermals before. I'm not sure I even sweated, and they worked me hard! I had to have my puffer like three times, cos the air was so cold! And the floor! So slippery! These girls are amazing skaters, they've adapted to their conditions and still shredded. Unsurprisingly, they were all super nice and I laughed my ass off the whole time. Notice the slim nature of the barn? If you hit someone to the outside, they smash into the wall! It was awesome! Anya Face was running the training - she's amazing. She joined in a hitting drill later on and I just could not evade her, her timing is wicked! Sufferjet (who organised our visit) was kicking ass too, so speedy - actually all of them were whipping around, my quads were screaming. There's a chick called Slacker as well - holy snowballs can she hit! Explosion after explosion accompanied with maniacal laughter had me alternating between fear and extreme derby crush. They taught me some new tricks that I'll be bringing home and also left me with a nice bruise - this is courtesy of a small firecracker speedster called Mirambo, with whom I swapped my sweater - the bottom pic shows how ADRD is represented in Canada now! I didn't get to know all the girls' names, but I can say that I was instantly spewing that I couldn't hang with them more. They would all slot right in to ADRD like a finger in a bum.

After the training, I got bogged in the snow and they pushed me out as well. Champions, is every sense of the word.

Tuesday I drove us to a little town called Stratford. Sooooo cute. They're famous for making these chocolates called Mint Smoothies, so naturally we got some. And some more. It's really cool to see the smaller towns and stuff over here, you get a really well rounded experience. Here's Kitty soaking up the architectural ambiance.Last night we went to the movies with Brenda, my most awesome friend with whom we are staying. Get this - the movies here. It was tight ass Tuesday (still over $10 in Oz), and we selected The Green Hornet. As I pressed the touch screen on the self-service machine, the price per ticket came up: $8.99. Bren says 'that's expensive - it's cheap Tuesday... oh that's right, it's 3D.'
o_O
IT COSTS $20 FOR A 3D MOVIE IN AUSTRALIA! AND THEY DON'T CARE WHAT DAY IT IS!!
Look at the drink we got. No supersize, just a regular large. Note the size compared to Kitty's head.Ok, that's almost long enough. I have to split the Canada trip into two, cos we still have fireworks, pond hockey and tobogganing to go, but I just wanna talk about Bren to finish up.
I met Brenda when I came here in 2004. We instantly got along so well cos she's so amicable and funny to boot. I didn't know the half of it until we started to hang out more. This is the deal with Bren: she is perhaps the coolest person on earth. Cooler than me, and that's hard to top, let's face reality here. I have never in my life met anyone like her. She loves her kids more that life itself. I'm serious, I'd rather sneak up and steal a cub from a Tigress than fuck with Bren, she will flat out deck you, she actually once beat a guy to a pulp for acting very inappropriately towards her daughter Hannah. Also, nobody knows anyone stronger than this woman. There's been times when she's been exceedingly unwell (it's not my prerogative to divulge details, but I mean scary unwell) and she doesn't miss a stride. She's been a missionary, delivered babies that would have died without her presence and she volunteers for the homeless in soup kitchens every week. She also can down a hell of a lot of beer and plays hockey like a champ. You wish you knew this person. yeah, she's ok. Her kids are both normal in the sense that teenagers do teenage shit, which is cool, but they also both have a very grounded sense of themselves in the scheme of things and they take their education very seriously. They also both are somehow able to excel at absolutely any sport they try. Bastards. Also, Bren's parents live with her now too, which is awesome because they are so super cute and her Dad says 'eh' all the time.
Ok! That really is enough. I need to go and throw a snowball at Kitty's crotch.
Til NY!
Tx

OMG n ME

...and what would y'all like fur an entree?

Wow.
Wow wow wow.
Ok so let's start from the start. I got next to no sleep before we left, too excited. We had been flat chat for days before we left, and about 8pm on the last night Caddy rocked up to pick up my car. This would have gone smoothly except for after she got dropped off and was sitting in the car, she realised she couldn't drive it. Haha we had an impromptu driving lesson and after minimal bunny hops I think she'll be ok. Hopefully.

Never to be too similar to the movie Home Alone, we woke up on time and got to the airport easily, thanks to the cabbie who spent considerable time explaining why and how there is no god, the answer involves a comet.

Our flights were pretty much uneventful, I was proud of how meticulously we packed, we passed effortlessly through all security points.
Upon arrival in NY, we had the unfortunate circumstance to book a cabbie that had next to no mastery of the English language, so we gleaned no info from him. When we got in, he said 'u know the fare?'
I said 'no, why, u gunna rip us off?'
He said it was $50, plus tip but he didn't help us get our bags out so I really wish I had just said 'be good to ur mother n don't eat yellow snow'.
TIPPING. IS. STRESSFUL.
Moving on.
So, once in our hotel, we got changed and walked to Times Square. After I gave all my change to a homeless guy in Army cams in a wheelchair and had none for the second, third and fourth beggar that approached me I realised that: a. NY has a lot of homeless ppl and b. I need more change and c. I look like a sucker. This also applies to the people that stand around selling tickets to comedy shows. They see me coming.
After a look around, we went to TGI Friday's for tea. First American lesson- don't order an appetizer AND a main meal (which they call entree for some reason). The portions are HUGE. Kat got a salad, it was seriously FIVE TIMES the size she would normally eat. Mine too, no way I could finish. Whilst eating, I mentioned to Kat how sore my hands were, I have a little bit of dermatitis. When she offered me hemorrhoid cream, I knew we were truly fatigued and needed bed. I looked at her strange and said 'hemorrhoid cream?' she laughed and said 'I meant cortisone cream'. P.s. Neither of us have hemorrhoids.
Once back at our hotel, we stopped at the bar for a nightcap and being the ever cheesy goober that I am, I channeled Don Draper and ordered an Old Fashioned. WOW was it strong! Kitty ordered a caramel Appletini and I even had to finish that for her. Verdict on Old Fashioned-nice after the sugar cube melts, too strong til then.
Breakfast we went to Applebee's and I started a fight an got kicked out. Wait, that was Ricky Bobby in Talladega Nights, we just had brekky and left peaceably. Our server looked like a human kewpie doll, it was terrifying.
Then we went to Brooklyn! We took the subway and were dismayed that the chick in the ticket booth was a total BITCH but she wasn't gunna bring US down! We made our way to 5 stride skate shop and I spent $230. For that I got: knee pads, wrist guards, a full set of atom wheels, a packet of bones reds and a sleeveless sweater. BARGAIN!!! We met OMG and she fitted me for boots. The boots I tried belong to BONNIE THUNDERS (no big deal) and they were made for my foot indeed. I'm waiting to order a pair, they're not on the market yet even.
From there we did a spot of shopping. I keep finding FREAKING COOL and CHEAP shoes and they keep NOT HAVING MY SIZE and it's pissing me off slightly, but we're in NY so it's not bringin me down too much.
HOLY BALLSACK they have a shop here called Lids FULL OF HATS AND NOTHING BUT HATS well there are some non-hat items but MOSTLY COOL HATS AS FAR AS THE EYE CAN SEE. I'm gunna go back after Canada, get me some headwear.
NY is very pretty at night, but my holy baby jeebus is it COLD!! quite literally there are times I can't feel my face and I know that I must be very accomplished at talking cos it takes over and does it on it's own. I had to buy better gloves, earmuffs and another beanie. Allegedly there is going to be a snowstorm tonight. I hope not, cos we're driving to Canada 2moro. Crazy.
We went back to Applebee's for dinner. The chick that served us was awesome. She looked like the black dancer from Pink's live shows. She took our order, I finally crumbled and got MOZZARELLA STICKS!!! they were worth the bloat, totally. It was an appetizer. She came back n we were like 'we'll just have the artichoke thing.' she said
'ok, another appetizer, and what will u have for ur entrees?' she was surprised when we didn't order anything else. The portion size here is OUT OF EFFING ORDER!!
Ok, well I better go, gotta get some sleep b4 my big drive,
I'll try to upload the pic of me with OMG but blogging on an iPhone is très difficile...
Next installment: Canada!!
Tx

It is NOT all it’s cracked up to be

Well, it has been two weeks since my last confession. A considerable amount has happened since then. I will divulge chronologically. After I recovered from New Year's eve, the next thing we did was go into the travel agent to finalise our flights. Unfortunately we couldn't get visas to Saudi Arabia – it seems they aren't interested in tourism, although they are interested in cash, it would have cost over $200 if I had been able to meet the ridiculous criteria. I don't know why they work so hard to keep everyone out – I can't imagine anyone wanting to sneak to and steal sand. They don't even have good camels anymore; they have to buy them from us. So, anyway, the chick at STA travel was *amazing* and so helpful with our situation, even though it was a giant pain in the ass. I highly recommend them if you're wanting wicked service.

So, after that stress was lifted, it just came down to crossing jobs off the list. Next job: play mascot at Mitchi's hockey game. The Adelaide Assassins are the local women's ice hockey team in the National Women's Ice Hockey League. There are teams from Melbourne, Sydney and Brisbane too. I used to play, but I retired at the end of last season, after we won for the fifth year in a row. I honestly was never very good – I'm what's called a grinder, or a systems player. That basically means that instead of a nice range of skills, I have really only one, but I do it decently. Kind of like Rainman. I was good at passing. Not scoring, not receiving a pass, not really skating even. I just got the puck and passed it to the talented people to put in the net. I got slow and it wasn't fun anymore (especially after a taste of derby), so I 'retired' (guffaw) and now I am simply a fan. I have to admit, I miss playing recreational hockey, but I don't miss playing in that league. I've kinda gone off hockey altogether at the moment actually. The local league-run mixed competition is a joke, and the politics make it a shitty experience. Plus, the vast majority of male hockey players think they're Wayne Gretzky and have the ego to boot. I don't expect any of them to be offended by this, cos the ones I'm talking about most likely can't read and also, reading a blog would mean tearing oneself away from the mirror. I have time for about 5 of them, coincidentally the ones that give a shit about supporting the women that support them when they play. Anyway, what I'm getting to in a roundabout way is that although I will always support the women and get to any games I can, I probably wouldn't have dressed up like an assassin if Mitchi wasn't playing this year. She worked so hard to get people to the games on the weekend of the 8^th and 9^th. She succeeded. The Saturday game was packed. I've never seen that many people come to a women's hockey game here. Usually I know everyone in the crowd, cos they are the parents of the players. In addition to the bums in seats, Mitchi also organised a mini pee wee game in the first period break, and a shootout with some Adelaide Adrenaline (men's league) players in the second. There were raffle prizes also, the Adrenaline mascot (a giant puck called Pump) and me, the Iceassin. Behold my glorious costume:

You will notice that I am wearing my derby knee and elbow pads. This was because I had a plan to slide along the ice firing the cap guns Mitchi had organised for me. Great idea, yes. Did I execute it? Uh, not quite. I had a little practice on some cut but not wet ice earlier that day, and it went well – skate fast, jump to my knees, then elbows, and slide along on the plastic, bang bang bang. Got to my dramatic entrance in the game and it went like this – fell to knees (holy balls I am going fast, there is no way I'm going to stop, let alone get to my elbows), put down hands to try to retard the speed, hands slipped out quicker than two whores in a jelly bathtub and I was on my guts, careening towards the boards. Thankfully, my cape went in the water, and I think it slowed me down. I managed to get back to my knees, gave it a go at pretending I meant it, and continued skating. From then on, I stuck to knee slides, on dry ice. The guns wouldn't fire properly, which was a bit anticlimactic, but Mitchi also got swords, so I gave one to Pump and we fought. I won. Here is me challenging him.

So, that was certainly an experience. Mitchi played the best I've ever seen her and I almost burst with pride. I also sweated like a madman in that getup.

The next event in my fortnight of blerg was that I had to have a colonoscopy and endoscopy, both in the same sitting. Joy. I honestly wasn't nervous. Lucky I didn't know it was going to be horrid. The doctor told me to eat wheat the week before, cos they were testing to see if I have Coeliac's disease. He said 'two slices of bread a day should do it', I heard 'go to town and eat your tits off to your heart's content anything with wheat in it'. I went wheat crazy. KFC, custard tart, meat pie, pizza, subway (wrap and TWO COOKIES), home made bacon and egg mcmuffins for breakfast and countless sandwiches. Good one, dick. Man, was I sick. Bloated, crampy, nauseous, headaches, lethargic, itchy, wheezy and just generally irritable. Two days before the procedure I had to have a low residue diet. I steamed fish and veggies and stuff and that was actually pretty nice. Looked like ass, but tasted better. Thursday was the killer, the day before the procedure. All liquid diet and these horrible drinks that make you shit your soul out in liquid form. When I picked them up, the chick said 'these will give you acute diarrhoea', and I think what she meant to say was 'you will go to the can five thousand times and you won't be able to tell if you're going no. 1 or 2 and you might feel like the devil is reaching inside you and making hand puppets break-dance'. I mean, I've had diarrhoea before, but holy briny barnacle balls, that was something else.

And the procedure. Well. Let me say that the staff at the Flinders Endoscopy unit are all so lovely, and they made me feel really at ease. The only problems I had were: 1. They have to put co2 inside your intestines and it REALLY EFFING HURTS and 2. The drugs made me a bit loopy right up until this afternoon, a day and a half after having them. Like I've said before, I demand honestly of myself on this blog, so here it comes. They put you in a 'twilight sleep', which means they knock you out but you're only just over that edge, it doesn't take a lot to bring you back. This is the part I'm pretty ashamed of – at one point it was pretty painful and I sort of woke up enough to whinge about it. They gave it another go, and I'm pretty sure I cried. I can remember it was excruciating, and the nurse had to hold my hand! They gave me another needle of jungle juice and I remember no more. Crying! Hand holding! Sounds like a Julia Roberts movie, not a tattooed derby girl. Pretty shattered about that, but the worst part is that I can't be sure! I went over and over it last night in my head and just couldn't get any closer. One of the drugs they give you screws with your memory too, which doesn't help. Last night, I was still feeling a little off, and I kept losing my train of thought – right before bed I went to get a drink, and as I was walking back to the room, I said to Kat 'and... as I suspected - ...oh. I can't remember where I was going with that.'
On the whole, a very strange two weeks, I'm very lucky that I have the best girlfriend known to humankind, I don't think I would have made it if it weren't for her tlc.
Four more sleeps and we leave for our holiday! I will be recording our adventures in living colour!
Cherish your virgin bums,
Tx

Capsicum spray and barf – not related

Well. That was 2010. Before I get into the festivities of Dec 31^st, I would like to recall the important milestones of last year, and I mean important to me, cos I'm that narcissistic and it's my blog.
January: I started training as an official member of ADRD,
February: I retired as a hockey player after five years of winning the national championship playing for Adelaide (largely not my direct influence but I was there nonetheless),
March: Celebrated Michi's birthday with dinner and a Ross Noble show and became a Road Train Roller (:D),
April: Brought home the world's sassiest dog for Kat's birthday,
May: Played in my first bout against the Wild Hearses. We lost, but it was the most awesome thing I'd experienced to date,
June: Played for Adelaide in The Great Southern Slam – a huge honour and a fantastic time. Rolled both my ankles dancing at the afterparty,
July: Beat the Salty Dolls to give us a position in the grand final and another shot at the Hearses,
August: Turned 33 and sung with the band at my joint birthday party and also had a snowboarding adventure for the first time in over 5 years,
September: Played in the grand final and ended the Hearses' winning streak with an underdog victory using our team strategy of 'no superstars, superteam',
October: Took in a nice holiday in Bateman's Bay with Snowy for her birthday,
November: Went to Noosa for a lovely family Christmas and vowed to devote all my earthly efforts to bringing down tiger airways after being screwed by them one time too many,
December: can't remember. Sleeping I think.
So, after a busy year, it seemed prudent that I celebrate its end by getting completely sloshed on my front porch like a yob.
Sensibly, I bought a 700ml bottle of rum for myself. As I was purchasing it, I had a thought – 'I remember once I drank a whole bottle of this and was very sick' but my greatest talent is ignoring commonsense, so I tuned that voice out and bought my Bundy. We had invited a few people over to our place for some quiet drinks and figured the best place to chill was the front porch. We moved one of the lounges out there (classy), the coffee table, a couple of chairs, candles, two different types of fairy lights, a cardboard star with a bunch of the fairy lights stuffed inside it and a tiki torch, for the mozzies. I scrubbed the weird algae out of the dog's drinking container thing to use as an esky and bought a whole pizza to myself, to eat half before I started drinking, and half later when I had the munchies. I had it all planned.
First, Rebelicious arrived. Then Caddy and Slams. Then Stoj dropped by with her hubby and gorgeous daughter. Then Michi and the J-man arrived with their mate Dave and the fun began. We were sitting, chatting, laughing but all of a sudden there was shouting and four men came running into the street. Three of them were chasing a really big dude and shouting at him 'GET ON THE GROUND!! GET ON THE GROUND!!' He dove into the driveway right across the street from us and the three men (cops in a summer kind of uniform) surrounded him, still shouting. The dude struggled to get up, and there was a hissing noise that I instantly recognised as capsicum spray. This really woke me up as I've been sprayed with it before. All of us were on our feet, eyes glued to the scene. The cop gave him a decent spray, but I guess he was still struggling and needed further subduing, because the one standing by his legs promptly butt punched him, twice. I couldn't believe what I'd seen. A butt punch? I asked everyone else 'did you see that?!!' and they all agreed, it was definitely a good, sharp, double tap on the butt. Who does this? Do they teach that in cop school? They pulled him to his feet and steered him towards the paddy van. He was definitely showing signs of being in pain on account of the spray – moaning and scrunching his eyes shut, kind of like a zombie. I said 'oh. He's in so much pain. That stuff sucks,' to which Michi replied 'they should put some milk in his eyes.'
...milk? She says 'well, that's what we use when we're tinting people's eyelashes and we get the tint in their eyes...' hahahahahaha I was doubtful but I suppose it could work.
We then got into a detailed discussion about milk as a remedy, and different types of punches – the times I used to give Michi kidney punches as a kid and the guy I knew who punched his pet fish cos it bit him ( I even saw the bit of grazed skin on the fish's face). I told them I would write about it in my blog and Michi said 'your blog is going to be all about me, milk and butt punches.' hehehe
After that fiasco was over, we got back to drinking and stuff. Electric Feel came on my ipod, and Michi told me that it was actually called 'Electric eel'.
So the night got a bit hazy after that, as I started to really put the rum away. Kat made me change to a plastic cup but that just made me put more rum in it, cos it was bigger. Earlier in the night I had spotted a friend of mine as she was on her way to a party three doors down from us. She is from Texas and is one of those people that somehow stir in me a need to be competitive and I think I may have challenged her to some sort of skating related duel. It turns out that the party was at the house of our video store guy, who is the coolest cat on our street. We've only ever called him 'video store guy' though and felt bad that we didn't know his name. We started to speculate about his name. I suggested that it might be Mintchinsincey, 'Minty' for short. Turns out it's Matt, so I was pretty close. Matt and Texas came over for some drinks. Then, in the blink of an eye I was in Matt's back yard, chatting with a Scottish guy who actually spoke very softly. I was way gone by then, I'm pretty sure I was annoying them and then I got trapped in their back yard trying to get out.
Fugue for a lil bit and then Kat found me sitting on the back step. She tried to make me go to bed. I was feeling ill so I made her get the bucket. Then I vomited in it. A lot. Then I tried to lie down but had to vomit again. Joy. Owing to my soused state, I forgot to have a berocca, forgot to have my liver tonic hangover remedy, forgot to drink or eat anything and just passed out.
The first thing I can remember after waking up is Kat asking me how I felt. My reply: 'like a zombie. That's been stabbed.' Oh, boy was I sick. I felt just horrible. I said to Kat 'I'm sorry.' She replied 'that's ok, I know you'd do the same for me.' I said 'I know but I never get to cos I'm too busy being me.' Poor Sunny had a stain on her head where I spilled Rum and coke on her. I went to wash my hands, but the soap dispenser was gone. I was so confused about where it had gone. Kat later found it in the sink.
Later in the night I found some texts I had sent that morning but didn't remember doing. This was to BK, who didn't come over the night before cos she's a big loser:
Me: I'm dying
Me: I'm wearing the purple shirt you gave me
BK: I just went to KFC bra less. New slutty levels reached.
Me: I fucking love you hard core that's hilarious
Me: I never go sans bra
Me: well sometimes
BK: Where is Kat?
Me: right here.
Me: watching Zoolander with me
BK: Look after her :)
Me: She is fine. I love her tits off
And this to Caddy:
Me: I'm ill
Me: I vomited
Me: twice
Caddy: ew. Why u sick? Hungover?
Me: yes almost a whole bottle of rum.
Caddy: ooooohhhhh not a smart move lol. Poor Robi :(
Me: yes. I really did not plan that correctly.
Later in the chain –
Me: please bring me KFC. ...Kidding lol ...Toasted twister ...Haha jokes ...But seriously extra seasoning on the chips pls

So, by all accounts I think that the night was a success. I can honestly say that I had heaps of fun, no drama, didn't have the stress of trying to get a cab places and I could easily fall into my own bed after a good vom and disrobing with the door open.
I believe in curses. I invented the anti-curse. It works like this: everyone who reads this will have a cool 2011. You have been anti-cursed. You're welcome.
Until the next adventure,
Stay hydrated,
Tx