Listen to that wind. The

Listen to that wind.

The power adapter to my iBook died on the weekend. As I type this I’m watching the computer’s battery level draining. Two more hours and it’s all over.

I suppose I won’t get a chance to email all the blogspotters in town and tell them about the party we’re having tomorrow night, Tuesday Dec. 16. Please help me out by spreading the word.

Claudette suggested we make it a long johns party. “I look hot in long johns,” she said.

So the plan is, we’re all going to sit around in our long johns and get drunk. I have to admit, girls do look cute in long johns, in a “Bugs-Bunny-dressed-up-as-a-girl” kind of way.

(On the weekend I had two people tell me they didn’t own a pair of long johns. Would you care to look out the window, and tell me what country you thought you were living in? Borrow a pair from your dad.)

The goal of the party is to get as many bloggers in one room as possible and get them all drunk. Then we’ll stagger up Gottingen Street to Hell’s Kitchen. Then we’ll all write about it the next day. So if you have a website, you’ll want to be here.

As an added bonus, this will be an art-giveaway party. My roommate Jane is moving away and she can’t take all her paintings with her. This is your chance to acquire a Jane Corrigan original before she goes off to Toronto and becomes a big famous art star.

I expect this party to feature a fistfight between two randomly-selected girls. Also, one lucky winner gets to walk in on me while I’m trying to have a threesome.

The whole thing goes down right here at Bloomfield House. If you don’t know you better axe somebody.

These are the last days, my friends.