Cancellation feels pretty darn good.

I canceled my MySpace account today.

Let me say, though, that I probably hadn't logged in or used the thing since February, at least. I would have probably canceled sooner, but I couldn't remember my password. It came to me in a flash of brilliance and short-term memory this morning, so I took the plunge.

I know there are probably some friends that I only communicate with that way, which probably means I haven't talked to them in nearly a year. So I guess maybe we weren't very good friends, eh?

Canceling my MySpace account feels like permanently closing a door on a past I no longer care to contemplate. It's not about you, MySpace friends. I assure you. If I remember who you are, I'm sure I love you dearly.

I would say you should look me up on Facebook, but I barely use that. What can I say? Follow me on Twitter. Occasionally, my head finds its way out of my ass and I tweet something. Sometimes it's even funny. No promises, though.

So long MySpace. I doubt I'll miss you.

Oh, and Princess and I went to see Bob Saget on Saturday night. He wasn't really as funny as I might have hoped. And I love Bob Saget. The problem, I think, is that he's Bob effing Saget, so he doesn't have to bother to write material any more. He just says whatever comes to mind, with a healthy dose of curse words and a foul mouth. My thought for a good half of his act? I'm funnier than that (okay, maybe not today, shut up)...

That's not a good sign, Bob. Pull it together.

It didn't help that the people sitting in the row with us each individually climbed over us to take a piss/get a drink/smoke/have sex in the bathroom three to four times (there were four of them). The rows at House of Blues are so tiny that there's literally no way to get out of the way without standing up. So every five to ten minutes, we were having to stand up to let these people by. Until the fourth or so time...then we just sat there and let them struggle. And seriously...DON'T touch me. If you can't hold your pee for an hour and a half, I have no sympathy for you. None. And if you know you have a bladder problem or are just completely obnoxious and rude, please...get an aisle seat.

The guy who opened up for Bob, though? He had me doubled over and unable to breathe in all the right ways. Ryan Stout? Call me.