'S my birthday, you know? Most people don't. A great majority of humans live their unassuming lives the whole year 'round and have no idea it's my birthday.

This, I believe, is the way it should be. I'm not a fan of disclosing the moment of my birth. Call me a kook (a shout from the back: "You're a kook!"), but the moment of one's birth is a powerful thing, and I don't just waste that info to anyone.

Even my closest friends have no idea how old I am. Sure they know the day, but most don't know the year.

I don't really have any big plans for today. Last weekend was my "unofficial" party, had a great time and got entirely too intoxicated. For the love of God...there was a drinking horn involved. There was live music. There was, unfortunately, damn near several barfights. Myself I interjected in a few.

See..I'm short. Not hobbit short, but close. I have noticed that upon imbibing (especially when there's a big drinking horn involved) that my mouth moves entirely of it's own volition. Which would explain how I wake up in a bar parking lot, usually staring up at some big guy, uttering the words "Can't you take a fucking joke?".

Last night was interesting. To kill some time I wandered into Yahoo Pool (incredibly addictive, that). I met there a New Brunswickian by the name of Sophie. Interesting girl. Witty, intelligent and with a world-view (such a yuppie phrase, but appropriate here) that is intriguing as it is grand. I spent several hours shooting virtual pool with a total stranger and conversing on a wide range of topics. A wonderful woman, and I'm glad I met her.

In closing, Evan's Random Thought of the Day:

No one looks good in a sombrero.