Merry Fucking New Year.

As this calendar year draws to an end, I find myself a bit introspective tonight. Several beers, after an incredible win in my hockey game, helps this along nicely.

I’ll skip the recap of the last year in the life o’ Judd, though. Anybody who reads this diary knows that I:

  • Got the bitchincoolinestass job possible.
  • Got engaged to the Girl.
  • Got my ass kicked in Golf and Fishing by the (ex)Girl and mother.
  • Did stupid shit.
  • Did more stupid shit.
  • Broke up with the Girl.
  • Drank a lot of beer.
  • Molested Pit Bulls.

There’s not a whole lot more to it than that.

Alright, there is, I didn’t really molest Pit Bulls, and I want to share some of the things that have taken shape over the last few months.


I became more aware of a lot of things.

It’s one thing to have a terribly nagging doubt about the situation of being with a certain person and wondering if they’re the “right” one, but it’s a whole other story to have the situation of the overwhelmingly “right” person smacking you about the head and shoulders, and being able to do nothing about it.

I’m not ashamed to admit it. I am in love with a married woman, and I’ll probably never get to be with her.

There’s something about the kind of passion that true love inspires though, that is almost impossible to ignore.

It inspired me to write a book, I’m working on it, and it’s coming along well.

And it’s going to kick ass.

But, that wasn’t all that inspired me to write.

A few years ago, I read a book called, “Running With Scissors,” by Augusten Burroughs, and it touched me.

Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t a “life-changer” where I shaved my head and started humping the legs of passerby at the bus station.

I just liked the way he wrote. I related to him. Granted, I’m not gay and I didn’t spend my formative years with crazy people, but I could still see where he was coming from.

Then, like almost all of the masses that read this, I received an email with a link to an homage to the “Worst Album Covers Ever.” I read it, laughed out loud in the middle of CubeWorld, and then read the rest of his “drippings.”

I’d never been introduced to the world of blogging, but I was instantly hooked and envisioned an environment where I could capture the wackystupidshit that goes on in my daily life.

I never considered myself a “writer,” tweed jacket and a pipe or no, nor did I figure that any people I didn’t know (almost all of you) would ever read my drivel.

A brief mention in an insanely popular diary later, and I was mildly insanely popular as well.

Then, my life went upside-down and, a few heartfelt emails later, the author that I most respected encouraged me to write a book.

I don’t know what the New Year will bring, but I have the utmost of faith that it will bring me nothing but the best of fortune, in no small thanks to some awesome people.

I owe you an email, but Thank You Augusten, for your writing and your support.

I’ll see you in a couple days, but Thank You Dusty, for pointing the vast majority of my “readership” to this seemingly-retarded-fart-hockey-drink-and-act-stupid diary.

And Thanks to YOU, the somewhat nameless, faceless, thousands that check in here to see what stupid shit I’ve done lately, that offer your support when I’m down, your good feelings when I’m up, and your laughter when I’m stupid (thankfully, this is about 90% of the time).

Thanks especially to those that I’ve grown close to through this blog, you know who you are, because I’ve (hopefully) told you. If I haven’t, drink a beer, and pretend I bought it for you, for you surely deserve it.

Jeezus, that was fuckin’ sappy as hell.

Gimme a little room here, I’m a bit drunk.


As for ringing in this “New” Year, I had a bit of luck and some good fortune, and I’ll be toasting the upcoming days with a good friend, and the hottest women that Atlanta can throw at me, at the swankiest-pimpin-coolest party in town.

Oh yes, a sexy man in a Kilt will bring them, of this there was never any doubt.

But… TWO awesomely confident men in kilts, and the ladies are sure to flock like magpies to road-kill.

Okay… a poor analogy, but you get the point.

I’ve said it before, but lemme tell you something about a man in a kilt.

Simply Irresistible.

There’s just something about a man that can put on an article of clothing, that is normally reserved for the opposite gender, in public, and carry himself with an air of complete confidence in his manliness.

This may or may not have something to do with the fact that his manhood is swaying freely in the wind, tough call.

Regardless, here’s to a raucously good time to be had this New Year’s.

I’ll be back next week, hopefully with some snapshots of the sexiest-kilt-wearingest-pimpinest ninjas you know.

So, be good, watch out for deer, drive safe, and drink like there’s no next year.

I sure as fuck will be.


It’s occurred to me, that I don’t post a lot of pictures of me not wearing a kilt.

I’m fucking drunk now, so here’s me fishing. Enjoy.

Merry Fucking New Year.