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After a long Thanksgiving vacation, I'm safely back and running. Watch your knickers, it's about to snow like a motherf*cker.

--So I got the flu. Again. And again, just like with my allergy shot, I rationalized away getting a flu shot.

"Gee, I don't have any medical insurance, " I sez to myself, I sez. "Mayhap I'll save the $57 for a vaccination and pray to the Gods of Good Health that the influenza virus skips over me this year."

You can all guess what happened next. Flu bug again. This brings my record-chasing Days Between Sickness Index (TM) to 4.2. The Gods of Good Health can blow me, for time and time again they have forsaken me. Does anyone get sick in LA? Ever? I can't wait to find out that they don't. It should be sometime about the middle of next week when I get some rare virus, in hibernation since the end of the Incans, that makes my penis fall off.

--Speaking of my penis, it certainly won't fall off due to overuse inside a female. Because that's not happening. At all. The good news there is that I've developed quite the rapport with my left hand.

Unfortunately, this has led my family to start asking the questions that I suppose they ask any person who is 24 and single: "Geoffrey, how come you don't have a girlfriend?"

I could give them the standard answers, but these will only lead to more questions. More unfortunately, no matter what I say, the follow-up is always, "Well what kind of girl are you looking for?"

Why is it that people assume that A) you have to have a significant other and B) you are constantly looking for them? I'll tell you why--because females make up 98% of the conversating public (conversation that doesn't involve sports, that is) and 99% of those conversations revolve around relationships. They're obsessed with it. The most unhappy people in the world are those that are actively looking for a partner. Is there anything sadder than hearing someone grovel about how they "need somebody", as if they need another body in the room to validate their existence? It's these people that ask the questions, and these people that drive the conversations, and they infect others and then here you are, answering another stupid question.

I spoke with my friend Niki about this today. I will answer the question as simply as I did for her:

1. I'm not "hunting" for anyone.
2. If someone comes along that is pretty, in good shape, intelligent, common sensical (above all else, except pretty and in good shape), not vain and not obsessed with materiality, then I would gladly be in their graces.
3. What I would really like for the next four months is a stream of attractive females to pleasurably manipulate my sexual organs and then leave me alone.

I don't think that's too much to ask. Then again, I think Julia Stiles is hot, and everyone seems to disagree with me, so what the f*ck do I know?

--The lovely and talented Lisa D'Onfrio correctly surmised--in the most lengthy and rambling GooseTown Email to date--the Most Important Event in the History of the World (TM), which is a mere 191 days away....

This is the date on which the Olson Twins turn eighteen years of age. Check out the Countdown Clock. No, I'm not obsessed. Yes, I am quite excited.

Congrats Lisa, your DVD player is on it's way*.

(*--Denotes that a DVD player is not on it's way and you have in fact won nothing. Void where prohibited. Not valid in Arkansas. No purchase necessary.)

--Working at AE on Black Friday, I had a girl ask me for jeans in a size "12 Petite". Let's get something out of the way here, clothing manufacturers (and yes, this is quite tactless and insensitive, but what do you expect out of me at this point?):

If you go past a size 8, there is nothing "Petite" about you, and I don't care that it refers to the length of the jeans. Nothing. Petite. So, in order to be less Politically Correct and more Honest, I hereby recommend that instead of "Petite" for sizes 9+, we use the description "Troll".

"Hmmmm....can I see these in a 14 Troll?"

It's accurate. Maybe we wouldn't have such a weight problem in this country if we just shamed people.

--Did anyone watch The O.C. last night? Did you see Summer in the Wonder Woman costume? Did you see that? She just jumped over Anna as GooseTown's Official Choice for Seth (TM). Wow. Wow. What a performance. In other O.C. news, what the f*ck was that guy doing talking to Marissa at the psychiatrist's office? Are they planting the seeds for the inevitable Affair of Marissa already? And yes, I feel so girly right now that I'm fighting off the urge to pop Bon-Bons like aspirin.

Speaking of TV Land, I was tricked into watching (and by that I mean voluntarily tuned into) Smallville last night. The show did little for me, but Kristina Kreuk...Holy Weeping Jesus on the Cross. She, apparently, is aggressively trying to work her way onto my Hump Island list, and I just might have to let her in the door....

--I am almost inconsolably excited about a few upcoming films, the biggest two of which are Dodgeball (starring Vince Vaughn and Ben Stiller, in which the two compete with a team in a National Adult Dodgeball Tournament) and a CGI adaptation of Where the Wild Things Are.

I have a ton more to talk about, but the flu is taking my vitality rapidly and bed is a must.

"Yay, sleep! That's where I'm a Viking!"