Exactly Where I'm At

Let the psychoanalysts say what they want, I know where holiday stress and depression come from; everyone is just freaking out about what the hell to get Dad. Mom is always happy with a sweater. Bro gets a video game. Wife wants some kind of shiny rock. It's all so easy. But what about Dad?

And it's "Hello, Paxil. Have you met Mr. Stoli? Let's get you two kids together."

So today's blournal entry is a public service announcement.

Like so many others, I woke up this AM with no gift ideas at all. Six hours later, I had found and purchased something that is freaking me out with the sheer intensity of its coolness. Allow me to introduce you to... Well, something. I like to keep this site clear of links and actual endorsements. Nobody pays me, so I promise not to do any favors in return. Anyway, check this deal:



That there's a portable GPS navigation sitchee-ation. Hadn't really given these things a second of thought before, but, holy crap - this thing is awesome. Go get one. Get any one of them. They're just plain amazing. Pretty easy to use. Tells you where you are. Tells you when and where to turn. Tells you where to get gas, where to find food, a hospital, lodging... Also plays mp3's if you want. Has a built-in battery and antenna so it doesn't require any additional wiring. Fits in your pocket. Cuts cans.

Shop around a little and you can find one for $200 on sale, and $200 splits quite nicely with a few other siblings/relatives. Besides any one of you could easily spend way more than that on Paxil in a year.

Hurry. Dad's waiting.