December 2006 Archives

A slideshow Kelley made of a recent soiree! Enjoy.

To me the phrase silver jubilee conjurs images of brightly color clothes hanging haphazardly from hastily assembled wooden booths, bearded men drinking something that passes only slightly for beer from ceramic crocs, and all manner of maiden prancing about with risen dough^*. Maybe it's the definitions and history of the phrase. Maybe it's just that "jubilee" strikes me as a gay (in the Ren Faire sense, not the pitcher-catcher sense) word of merriment. Maybe I like The Lord of the Rings a little too much.

Whatever the case, this Friday I celebrate my silver jubilee. For those of you who have read this far and haven't clicked on the phrase linked to the definition up at the top, it means this:

Looking back a year ago I find that I had begun what I called my Year of Change, a process vague enough to be defined by even the smallest of changes, for better or worse, in my life. My how things have changed. I could attempt to detail them all, but I'd need this blog to help me and as any of you who read it regularly know, I'm vague as hell. So vague, in fact, that not even I know what I'm talking about most of the time. So, instead, I focus on where I am, not where I was, and I have to say I'm in a really good place.

The biggest changes are the ones that happened subtely over time and are only apparent now, in retrospect. Mostly I feel more confident in who I am and completely content with where I am right now: a reasonably successful, extremely gorgeous, humble man^†. I've slowed down which may come as a surprise to most of you, but by that I mean I've slowed down at living, not talking.

So as I approach this first of what I predict will be no fewer than 8 quarter century milestones (that means I plan on living till at least age 200), I'd like to stop and recognize not only the things I've helped myself accomplish, but those of you who helped as well. I certainly couldn't have done it without you. Thank you. I love you all.

Twenty-five. Sounds weird to say. I still haven't gotten used to twenty-four yet...

^* risen dough: boobs crammed way up and happily presented with the help of a corset, for example.
^† That "humble" joke cracks me up every time.

It's no secret Jason and I can drink. In fact, it's rather celebrated (or feared). We've drunk bartenders out of Irish whiskey, had vodka straight from the bottle, and gathered crowds for a pub crawl the likes of which God has never seen. There is no beer we have not tried, no shot not imbibed, no wine that has not fallen before us, nor any distillery that does not fear our arrival for a "brief tasting."

It should come as no surprise, then, that Jason and I have been part of a secret government project to create the perfect drinker. A man so capable of drinking that cities would fall before him, offering their finest alcohol in hopes that he would not drink them out of existence. Stage one of Operation Burkowski was to find two of the finest drinkers on the planet.

Name: Jason Codename: STINGER	Name: Matt Codename: noodles

After completing stage one, the secret government scientists managed to secure some DNA from hair strands. Weeding out the few imperfections they could find (my tolerance for tequila is lower than Jason's as his tolerance for wine is lower than mine), they recombined the DNA to form the perfect double-helix: a blueprint capable of producing the world's first super-drinker. Finding an unfertilized human egg was simple enough and nine months later a man was unleashed upon this world, setting in motion events that will forever change the way we think about how much alcohol one man can drink. Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you with that man:

Jatt Mason Super Drinker