January 1st, 2008


Good Grief! The Many Shames of Young Geoffrey, Part XXXVII

It's worse than I thought. Last night, prior to packing it in before the old year gave way to the new (waking at 4:00 in the morning makes staying up 'till midnight an unlikely proposition; ask me about my newsletter!), I found myself cuddling the cat and watching, ahem, The Royal Canadian Air Farce's New Year's special.

My shame arises not from the fact that I was watching television simply to kill some time as my body readied itself for nocturnal shut-down. No! What worries me is that I laughed. Out loud. At least six times. Even the stupid chicken cannon, spattering Byron and Karlheinz with all manner of ick, forced an eruption of noise sharp and sudden enough to startle the kitty.