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Hello! Seth here. We're almost there, folks! Like a meth-mouthed hustler dumped off the side of Highway 62 as we bat-outta-hell-it out of Joshua Tree, 2005 is quickly receding in our collective rear view mirror, and we can't think of any better way to have spent its last fuzzy moments than here, with you, the fourteen people reading Defamer this week. We've tried to offer you some New Year's Eve plan options, but ultimately, we know you'll make the most of the overhyped, overpriced, overrated night. Just remember, it's not the size of your party, but what you do with the tiny party you've been ill-fated to that counts. We find scented candles and massage always keeps 'em happy, but you might want to stick to the more traditional routes of champagne, noisemakers, and whatnot.

Today will be a half day of posting, Monday we'll be off, and Tuesday we're back up and running, with Mark back, rested, and face pulled tighter than a conga drum skin. Try not to gawk, this is something he's wanted for a long time now and he sounds pretty excited about it.