from cuba with love

Well, I'm back at home after my yearly retreat across town to the Hoover estate, and since my head is spinning from a magical pre-embargo Cuban cigar, it seemed that posting was the most productive thing I could do during the next fifteen minutes of trying to keep my skull and extremities completely motionless.

Christmas was wonderful, and like any self-respecting only child, I raked it in. I snagged a couple of choice video games, including the mostly unheard of Def Jam: Fight for NY. So while you and Billy and all your friends are playing Halo or John Madden Two-thousand-whatever, I'll be experiencing the joy of a fighting game starring scores of hip-hop stars. So you have fun pretending to be Walter Peyton, and I'll have fun pretending to be Snoop Dogg throwing Carmen Electra under a subway train.

I also got Metroid Prime 2, which is sort of like Halo for people with good taste in games and who like to eschew cliche.

Big Jer got XM radio, a lot of tools, and books about Corvettes and trains. Martha got shopping money and a lot of wonderful other things that she probably didn't like near as much as the shopping money.

It seems that all this typing is entirely too much physical activity, so I think I shall sleep it off on the couch. And after that, I think Li'l Kim has a virtual bone to pick with Method Man.