It is called the Santa cluster, and I'm on it. Where are you? All the equipment at LJ seems to be named after South Park characters. If Brad had been a Tolkien fan instead, I might be on the Gandalf cluster or the Strider cluster. If he had been fond of porno stars, I could be on the John Holmes cluster. Had he been an Ozzy freak, I might have been on the Mister Tinker Train cluster. These are the sort thoughts that come to me when my brain is muddled. Reality seems so arbitrary at times such as this. Well, no matter. Soon, I'm sure, a comet will crash into the earth and we'll all be dead anyway. Then donuts will be a thing of the past. Then there will be nobody to remember Pepto-Bismol. I shall now go to sleep and await the inevitable, which is either apocalypse or a cat jumping on my head. Goodnight, Santa- if that really is your name.