Happy New Year, Dopes.

And thus begins the journal on this site, one I plan to keep up regularly - just like i plan on losing weight and cutting down on the smokes and exercising and getting younger.

I spent the week up to New Years as I often do, blown out of my tit on a wide assortment of narcotics in the Great State of Alaska. I got to Anchorage X-mas night around last call, making it the only night I didn't go to sleep reeling in intoxication. More on the drugs and cruel sodomy later.

The Year In Review, 2001, was more good than bad, even taking into account the death of my father and that this is the first year I got a sunburn on my scalp. Betsy gave me an overdue out of our relationship in June just in time for that old Renee to come creeping back around. I always fall madly in love with her and she's not nearly as into it as I am. You all know what a drag that can be. She still comes around and gives me false hope and I still bite but in the meanwhile it ain't like I kept my dick in a jug.

The break-up left a brief lull for a short while like they always do followed by a multi-state pooning spree that made me think comedy was actually fun again. Thanks to all those involved. Every time I fuck myself into a relationship, I realize that I'd had the perfect life all along. I have met and now know some of the most incredible women you can imagine and occasionally we fuck. Never an argument, never the stink-eye, never a problem. No judgments or jealousy. Perfect. Until some Renee shows up and takes a gorgeous dump on the whole idea.

Taped a new CD in October which should be ready in February, although it'll be with a temporary cover. The artwork won't get done til April. Title is "Die Laughing". Fuck off if you don't like it. In the meantime, buy my old ones here or, if you're a cheap fuck and have time, you can usually grab tracks off of Morpheus. If you don't have it, it's better than Napster. Get it at Music City.

I was returning from a Tribble run in Montana with Mat Becker, proof positive that you can't go home again, when I heard about the WTC attacks. Wild shit but after the last year or two of reading alternative press and, for lack of a better term, conspiracy theorists, it is impossible for any sane person to jump on the flag-happy mongoloid bus.

If you do anything worthwhile today, order "You Are Being Lied To" from Disinfo. It's a compilation of essays from 40-some authors ranging from Zinn to Chomsky regarding the disinformation you're fed daily from Jesus to OKC, from the public school system, mass media to the war on drugs and much more. It'll fuck up everything you thought you knew about. Then keep reading from there. Educate yourself.

Back to Alaska. I've being going up to Anchorage for 6 years now, every year for the holidays as well as other trips during the year. The first trip will have to go in a story by itself. Most of the good Alaska stories I don't tell without witnesses present, as they seem to far-fetched. It really is the last frontier.

Every year since '95 we've had a traditional ecstacy party during Christmas week, about 12 - 15 of us that get together at a house and boil our brains with drugs, love and partial nudity. It's what I look forward to every year.

Last year we had to skip it, too many of the main players having personal life-shit going down. This year we doubled up. In six days I polluted myself with coke, x, shrooms, pot, xanax, loritab and more liquor than a dozen sweatshop livers could process in a Jakarta workweek.

I'm not a big drug guy during the year, mostly just a drunk. Rules don't apply in Alaska and it's funny, I always feel better after a drug binge than a regular night on the sauce. The later parts of 2001 brought a nice run of mushrooms, though, and I would do mushrooms any day of the week without hesitation. Was eating 'em right on stage in Vancouver where they make em into chocolates. Nice trip that night, building fires on the waterfront with some hobo.

So I thought it would be fun to do shrooms on stage in Alaska for New Years Eve. The crowds I get there are small, room only seats about 60-70, and most of them are familiar with what I do so I didn't see where it could go that wrong. Of course, I never took into account New Years Eve crowds. Although the room I play at Chilkoot Charlies may be small, the bar itself is a combination of 8 different bars under one low ceiling and people will wait in line at 20 below on weekends to get in. Add New Years Eve and you have a mass wandering pig sty of losers and rookies wandering in and out, blowing horns and not ready to accept that this is just another night in their miserable lives. Mushrooms are not the right drug for this night. Other drugs make YOU fucked up. Shrooms make other people fucked up to you. And these people didnt even try to disguise it.

Becker is shrooming too but can't tell anyone cuz he's gotta bartend there after doing the show. He goes up to do his 20 minutes, freaks out after two jokes and bails. I go up and freak out after about four jokes but am forced to suffer thru another hour with the owner and his Mom sitting right up front. Talk about buzzkill.

I eat another big cap and stem right after I get off stage and head for the loft bar above the south side where my friend Colleen's disco band is about to play. The place is a wall-to-wall nightmare. I sit in the far corner with a few of my friends who are stuck being go-go dancers for the band and are as thrilled as I am to be there. Some are X-ing, some are tripping, others just getting sauced. All of us are waiting fro the countdown so we can get the fuck out. At some point I had to piss violently but couldn't bring myself to make the long walk from the loft bar thru the maze of jugheads to a bathroom. JJ, the world's greatest lesbian and her galpal Jax, trippers on the pro circuit, said not to worry and produced a plastic party hat and held it for me at groin level so that i could empty off the urgent part of my bladder. Never batted an eye. Just handed it to Bart behind the bar and asked him to throw it away. Bart used to trip before the cunt got married. He knows how things go, scowl or no scowl.

One little girl with a pierced tongue who has been hanging out all week is liqoured up and dancing all over me. She screams "victim" and I tell her so. She just smiles and writhes some more.

At midnight we all hit the stage and yell an uninspired happy new year and I grab this girl and head for the door. My friend Longo is fullfilling her go-go obligation and says she'll meet up with us at my hotel when she's done firing off the toilet paper cannon into the mob.

I eat a few more stems into the room and start making a subtle play for the victim girl, who tells me "Stop acting like you've never done this before " as she starts undoing my pants. She's got me there.

My bags are packed for my flight that leaves in about five hours. One of those bags was filled with a full inventory of smut-shop sex toys, the bag that I'd packed and purposely brought up as a carry-on hoping to make a spectacle of airport security. It hadn't been searched but it was certainly gonna come in handy now.

The girl tells me she wants to be tied up and I was glad to oblige but I was just too fucked up to figure out all the clasps and ties and whatnot so I eventually had one hand in a wrist-to-thigh restraint and the other wasn't tied to anything so I jut held it behind her back. Nothing Houdini couldn't get out of, but then again, Houdini wasn't getting fucked in the ass during any of his escape attempts.

I spend some more time stuffing different latex items in different holes, more out of high amusement than anything else, when there's a knock on the door. Longo! I open the door spook-eyed with a boner and a smile. "You gotta watch this!" and I know if there's some who like to watch , it's Longo. Unfortunatley she has her drug-buddy Dean with her which instantly robs me of a nice Viagra-free hard-on.

They aren't so fucked up and agree to take over the duty of tying up this poor youngster. Nobody bats an eye at this shit in Alaska. Just another weird day. They start twsiting up bed sheets and pulling out television cables and before you know, girlie is pinned wrists and ankles, butt naked and spread out like a snow angel.

"I wanna watch you fuck her." says Longo, more like she's studying apes than in any sexual way but a turn-on none the less. Unfortunately Dean does too and he's a big goofy Flounder from Animal House and he's ruining it.

I try jabbing her once or twice but I cant get past the audience and I'm laughing too much so Longo and Dean head to the after-party at Colleens and I dump one off in this sweet young girls rectum, re-pack and head for the party.

Happy New Year

It might help to know that a couple days prior this same girl drove me and Becker to get colonics after doing morning radio. We'd met a girl at the Thursday show who, after I complained yet again about my pained liver, suggested we come to her work for a nice, detoxifying colonic. We obliged and I had the victim and Becker both in the room when I was told to "Lift your cheek, you're going to feel some pressure." They laughed for the next 45 minutes and I was violated and pumped free of "toxins". When it was Mat's turn to go, straddled and sweating on the table in his gown, the fucking hot water heater had gone south and they couldn't do it. Motherfucker. never let Mat Becker go second.

Point being, it was a nice feeling when I eventually said to the victim girl, "Lift your cheek, your going to feel some pressure."

We go to Colleen's where its always very mellow and suck down a handful of nitris hits to take the edge off. Whippits on shrooms are a beautiful near death experience that can't be good for you at all. I did all I could.

I got out for my 6 am flight and it was all I could do not to just turn around, get in a cab and stay in Alaska forever. It's harder and harder to leave that place every time I go.

I took a Xanax and a half before I got on the plane and didn't wake up til the plane hit dirt in LA.

I never felt better.

My New Years resolution had been to try and save more money but i think I may try to do more drugs as well. Maybe spend more time in Alaska in the summer.

In the meantime, I'll be heading to Costa Rica on the 16th with Becker for a week.

Remember, it's not whether you win or lose - as long as you wake up with a good story.