Tomb Raider has just departed for New York, so it will be pretty quiet here for the next few days. I would make like George Costanza and flop on the couch in my underwear eating a block of cheese, but bless her, that’s what I do when she’s here, too. I went to a Christmas party with her last night, and of course I was the odd man out in so many ways. I’ll admit to having a bit of sick fun by wrapping my answers to questions from her friends in enigmatic fluff, occasionally dropping references that I know they wouldn’t get (100% guaranteed that no-one in that room ever read Hayek or knew who Lysander Spooner was). To paraphrase Epictetus, “When did I ever tell you I was nice?”

But it is still a day of celebration with multiple birthdays, including the guy who put Claude Rains on the map; a rather complex and reluctant legend of the Old West; a rather energetic fellow; one of the more interesting people to push wood; what Jason Robards and Dean Stockwell have in common; the malevolent member of The Lollypop Guild; a guy who I was lucky enough to see play several times before he literally self-destructed; a rocker who came to a similar end; the guy who convinced me that Trump actually was an idiot; and a guy who I hope actually got two girls at the same time (and probably did).

Let’s get to what we all really came here for, Links.

 

This guy, he’s my kind of guy.

 

Shit gettin’ serious.

 

In this cage match, I’ll take the Christmas shoppers.

 

Look, it’s better than Kwaanza.

 

How the fuck can anyone drive without a middle finger?

 

Fourth wave feminism.

 

I feel bad that I never heard of these guys until a couple of days ago. This one will get your blood circulating.