It's cold.

A couple of days ago, the wind chill made the temperature negative ten degrees fahrenheit.

Negative temperatures concern me.

When my bank balance is negative, they don't just let it slide. You gotta pay back that money someday. With interest.

So my fear this: One day in May, it'll be like eighty degrees and sunny. Beautiful. And then some weather-thug will come up and demand his degrees back. He'll be like, "Remember that day in January? Well, you owe us and you owe us big."

And then it'll be thirty.

Sigh......

I don't want to alarm anyone, but I just found out a thing-of-the-upsetting-variety:

According to this, my blog is written by a man.

They can tell by how I write, see?

Women, apparently, are more likely to use words like "with" and "hers," whereas men are more likely to use words such as "touchdown" and "upright toilet seat."

That is, *if* I understand the algorithm correctly.

On one hand, this new piece of knowledge is probably for the best, seeing as how I learned recently from a very prestigious magazine that women aren't funny and, well, this is supposed to be a funny-esque blog.

On the other hand (so to speak), there is the penis issue.

So to any boy I've kissed of late who is possibly a teensy bit upset to find out about my apparent manhood, I must apologize.

I just didn't know.

I must say, though, that I hide my male-esque-ity rather well. I always call people when I say I will, and virtually never scratch myself in public. In fact, until today, I would have virtually guaranteed that I was female.

I should have suspected, though.

You see, I'm funny. Not always, for sure. But every so often, I'm FUNNY.

And God knows that's a dead giveaway.

Now back to that entry I was writing about toilet seats....

A female chimpanzee at a Louisiana sanctuary has given birth, despite the fact that the facility's entire male population has had vasectomies.

Who'd have thought we would see the day when primates are actually used to prove the virgin-birth theory?

Here is a thing about alcohol:

People who are me should not drink it.

Ever.

And by "ever," I mean "last night."

So on the off-chance that you ARE me, or on the even-more-unlikely chance that somehow I can predate this post so that I can go back and read it sometime yesterday, here is some advice:

1) If you cannot for-sure-and-absolutely COUNT the number of glasses of wine you've had, then the number is "too many."

2) Whilst one glass of wine is likely good for your heart or your cholesterol or something-or-other, "too many" glasses of wine is decidedly bad for your tummy. And your head. And the inside of your ears. And everyplace.

3) Yuck.

4) Also yuck.

5) So what I'm saying is, don't do it, dummy.

I eavesdrop, by-the-by.

I can't help it.

If you didn't want me to know a certain thing, surely you wouldn't be saying it so loudly and clearly in such close proximity to my ridiculously-small (I was teased about them in junior high) ears. Right?

Maybe last night was a test, though.

Yes, the more I think about it, the more I feel certain that last night was a test. A test to see if I am the eavesdropping type and if my ridiculously-small ears can pick up the loud-and-clear things you are saying.

Because clearly no one would say the things I heard at the table-next-to-mine-at-the-Italian-restaurant for reals. Right?

No one would really, seriously say, "So she called me in the middle of the night all upset. Crying and all. And so I was like, 'Hey. People who really WANT to commit suicide don't call someone in the middle of the night and tell them about it. People who really WANT to commit suicide just do it. Goodnight.'" Right?

So, yes I am an eavesdropper.

And yes, I heard you.

So job-well-done-and-test-passed-and-suchlike. Because you certainly weren't serious.

Right?

I'm a sucker for a guy with a good vocabulary.

If I were Renee Zellweger and you were Tom Cruise, I believe the line would be, "You had me at 'apocryphal.'"

'Tis January now.

2007.

Which will probably be a lot like 2006, really, except a few degrees hotter and with fewer polar bears.

I, like much of the rest of the world, have a tradition of making New Year's Resolutions. Also like the rest of the world, I do not have a tradition of keeping New Year's Resolutions.

So a few years ago, I decided it would be better for mankind if I made New Year's Resolutions for other people.

Making resolutions for other people is, I feel, a much better tradition in a This-Way-I-Don't-Technically-Have-To-Do-Anything-All-Year sort of way.

Besides, it is assuredly other people that are the ones screwing up my life.

So here are my Third Annual New Year's Resolutions for Other People:

People-Who-Give-Jill-Unsolicited-Advice-About-Her-Comedy-Act
1) I shall avoid giving Jill unsolicited comedy advice as to how to improve her stand-up routine.
2) Particularly when my idea of "comedy" involves videos of men getting kicked in the crotch.
3) Not that that's not funny.
4) Because it is.

Microwavable-Slippers:
1) I will remain outside of Jill's microwave.
2) No matter what the package says.
3) If, perchance, I end up inside of Jill's microwave, I shall not explode even a little bit.
4) Even if Jill forgets me whilst diligently playing Trivial Pursuit.
5) If, perchance, I do explode, I shall clean up my own damn pieces.

Jill's-Personal-Trainer:
1) I shall endeavor to stop training-personally Jill so as that she hurts like the Dickens.
2) Even though Dickens was, really, quite a good writer.
3) Except "Great Expectations."
4) I hated that book.

Man-Who-Was-In-The-News
For-Having-Pygmy-Monkeys-In-His-Underwear
1) I shall not put any wild animals, pygmy or otherwise, in my underwear whilst attempting to make it through airport security.
2) Oh, who am I kidding?
3) I shall put LOTS of monkeys in my underwear.
4) Because it makes Jill happy.

O.J. Simpson
1) I will not write any more books.
2) And by "write" I mean "have someone else write."
3) And if I do write a book I shall not put an "If" in the title when I mean "Definitely-And-For-Certain."
4) Also, I will get hit by a bus.

Producers-At-Comedy-Central:
1) I shall discover Jill's innate comedic talent.
2) So that she can have her I'm-Finally-On-TV Chocolate Fountain Party.
3) I know I resolved this for the last two years, but I really mean it this time.
4) For realsies.

God
1) I will tell people to stop blowing people up in my name.
2) And shall insist that I am running quite low on virgins so just give it up already.
3) Also, evolution is real.
4) Just ask the guy with pygmy monkeys in his underwear.

President Gerald Ford
1) Die
2) Oh wait.

My-Blog-Readers:
1) I shall endeavor to use "Rounding Up Buffalo With the Governor" as a euphemism for masturbation on a regular basis.
2) Until it catches on in all the world.
3) And is possibly used in an episode of "Desperate Housewives."
4) Also, I will keep reading Jill's blog even when she insists on silly euphemisms because I know that she loves me, individually, even though she has not technically met me yet.


Happy New Year, friends.