Jan 7-9, New York City, USA: I was born on Friday January 7th, 2005. After months of scraping and clawing I finally broke through the plastic shell and cardboard backing that had imprisoned me for so long. I was sitting on a windowsill and I look out to see the Hudson River and the Westside parkway and I immediately recognized my location as upper West Side Manhattan. The Big Apple baby!

I scampered across the room just in time to hop into the pocket of Joey's coat without being noticed. We caught the Metro to the Chelsea district and from my pocket view I caught a glance of the infamous Chelsea hotel that claimed the final chapter of the short-sad life of Sid Vicious. Inside of the bar called Trailer Park (so Joey and his St. Marys friends could feel at home) I hopped out of Joey's coat pocket and announced my presence.

Damn! People were really excited to see a partying action figure. Since I was sort of a celebrity (I guess they knew about that Nobel Prize thing I got back in the day), a nice man named Jorge bought me a rather expensive bottle of Dom Perignon champagne. After I drank that I felt a little tipsy and was dancing around the table wearing a Chinese dragon mask. Good times, good times!

Afterwards we had a nightcap at Sutton Place and I went to bed slightly embarrassed. On Saturday I needed some more fun, so I went to Brooklyn. I listened to some live Kelly Buchanan (www.kellybuchanan.com) in her Williamsburg apartment and hung out and ate dinner with some hot babes.

I bought a 40 oz. to drink on the train. I passed it to Joey for a swig and within seconds he was being busted by undercover NYPD for open alcohol in the NYC subway system. Apparently, we're the type of people NYC needs to be protected from. I just hid in the coat pocket till it was over.

Never ones to slow down, we headed back to Manhattan to the Electra Elf screening party at the Bowery Poetry Club, payed quick homage to Ramones and the early NYHC scene at CBGB's and then we danced till 4 AM at LIT.

I last saw Joey laying on a sidewalk somewhere in the Lower East Side asking why his puke was the color it was. Idiot. I left him there and I crashed in Manhattan.

The next day (Sunday) he showed up looking and smelling like a walking landfill with mysterious purple stains on his shirt.

Cory, Joey, and I said our goodbyes and drove towards Pennsylvania. - Albert Einstein