"You sons of a motherless goat!"

Our hero is in fine spirits today, for three reasons:

1. Daylight savings time has ended for another year, giving me a blissful (and badly needed) extra hour of slumber last night;

2. I got a paycheque from resto-job yesterday, meaning that for the first time in two months my bank account has gone up rather than down; and

3. The 160 Grenadier Hallowe'en Hootenanny was a triumphant success, despite a plant maiming and a very unfortunate incident involving a precariously perched salsa bottle and a hard bathroom floor.

I'd forgotten how much fun a good party can be, perhaps since I went to a grand total of two (2) in Elliot Lake. One was my work Christmas party, and the other was a street dance I was covering for - get this - work. So it was nice to cut loose on Friday night. The girls and I looked lovely in our Three Amigas gear, the music was tacky and appropriate, and spirits soared throughout the night.

To all you sexy scary sods who turned out in full gear, thank you. A Hallowe'en party just isn't a Hallowe'en party without geisha vampires, pimp Spongebobs, trekkies and hip folks dressed as Ed Wood. And while Hernando, Hernando and Juan may have won the dance-off, I maintain that the moral victory belongs to us.