As I sit in a newly built compound, sipping burbon and enjoying the sun, I took a gander to how my beloved blog has been doing. Turns out my intern hasn’t been doing his job for the last six months. On top of that, the bugger stole my 1968 Les Paul and one of the dudes from our Foosball table. Normally the Fixer and I are on top of things, but we’ve been on assignment in….let’s just say on assignment with Jeff Oh. I can typically talk about my goings on, but I’m pretty sure if I do, I’ll be living on a house boat for the rest of my life. So where’s Alex James? Looks like he took off a long time ago. There’s an inch of dust on his cot and the black lipstick on his usual whiskey glass has long faded.
So on to business…
In lieu of the disappearance of Alex James, the Fixer has pulled me off of field work in order to take over SOA. This means a couple of things for you and me:
1) Most regular posting – enough of this once every couple of weeks crap that has been the trend over the last year.
2) More anger – I’ve been in the bush for a long time now…and I’m pissed off.
3) Less geek stuff – Even though we’re called State of Affairs, that doesn’t mean we talk about the next video game that’s coming out.
4) More anger – A lot of douche bags out there are about to get their comeuppance.
Also, I’ve contacted Jeff Oh to bring his brand of hellfire to the forum but he’s more reliable than a two dollar crack whore.
It’s year two of SOA. Time to bring the old girl back from the dead.
Guess what folks. I’M BACK. It’s time to rock this fucker with a sledge hammer. As you’ve already seen, I’m making some ascetic changes. I will give a full report once I’m satisfied, but I will give you a taste of what has happened…The compound has been burned to the ground. Not gonna say how, but I will illustrate with a picture:
December 31st; according to our widely-accepted calendar, in twelve short hours we will see 2009 out the door and into the annals of history, where it will join the countless other years in our culture’s past that weren’t really all that important. Of course that’s not true – every year is important to somebody, regardless whether anything particularly noteworthy went on in the grand scale. For example: 2009 will always hold a special place in my heart as the year my literary genius was finally recognized – on June 15th of this year I started writing for State of Affairs, and by July 23rd, Jim stepped down as head writer and handed me the reins. Since then our readership has grown into the hundreds and even thousands per day, and the success of the blog has allowed me to make inroads into new and exciting projects for the coming year.
With 2009 drawing to a close, I’m starting to look towards the future, both personally and as far as State of Affairs is concerned. I’m glad to say there are some very exciting things on the horizon for SoA in 2010, though I can’t say much more just yet (I know, I’ve been saying that for months, but bear with me – it’s all true), but in the meantime, I’m looking forward to taking a few days off over the Christmas break to share good cheer (also known as scotch) with my nearest and dearest. You can expect periodic updates throughout the holiday season, so when you get sick and tired of resenting your family you can hop online and come visit old Uncle Alex for a while.
That said, today will be my last update until after Christmas, so I’d like to take this opportunity to wish each and every one of my dedicated readers the very best for whatever holiday they choose to celebrate (if any; those of you who don’t can piss off – just kidding). State of Affairs has become very important to me, and without your support, your feedback, and of course the consistent inspiration sent by those of you honoured with the title Correspondents, I wouldn’t be where I am today. On behalf of myself and Jim, (who is, as usual, on assignment – the Fixer sent him to East Anglia in search of the original recipe for egg nog) I thank all of you from the bottom of my black little heart.
Okay, now that we’re done with housekeeping and all the heartwarming happy holiday horseshit, go drink some egg nog (with brandy, natch) and have a jolly old time.
It’s come to my attention that Jim thinks he knows me a lot better than he actually does. In an effort to incite my ever-present and ever-seething rage, he likes to bait me by sending me stories he figures will push me over the edge. But this time he’s miscalculated somewhat.