Since the lovely Alena likes it so much when I use the journal to pimp events: my karoake buddy Tom is organizing a bit of a to-do for Toys for Tots tomorrow at the Courtside in Cambridge. Here's the deal: you come, you bring a toy for a tot, you get drunk and sing some kick-ass karaoke. You win, the tots win - everybody wins. And who doesn't like tots, really? Got to love the tots.

As an extra-special bonus, the first toy-bearing carbon-based life form that approaches me on Thursday night and calls me a "fat Christmas goose" will get the honor of choosing my song in karaoke roulette. That's right - I will step up and sing your song, sight unseen, to the humiliation of myself and delight of the spiteful, bloodthirsty audience. If you think about it, it's the perfect opportunity to help out some little kids while also venting any covert hostility you may be secretly harboring toward me. Apparently, there's a lot of that going around.

So I hope to see you all there. Come on - it's for the fucking tots.

You know, I was thinking about it this morning and the show on Friday over at Brandeis (team mascot: the "Abuela Grandes" - that's Spanglish for "Large Grandmothers") is actually a really good opportunity for all you little scamps. Here's why:

- It's rare when we play that early on a Friday night.
- It's even rarer when you get to see us for free. That's right, I said free. We will, however, be asking the gentlemen to drop a sperm sample at the door to donate to needy lesbian couples. It is the holidays, after all.
- It's very likely your last chance to see Scamper in this the year of our Lord 2005, which is important because on December 31 at midnight, Nate turns into a very sexy pumpkin.
- I've heard Brandeis girls will do anything for that MRS degree (I know, I know - I'm opening myself up to more hate email, but I just can't resist. I've got to be me).

So there you go - four utterly compelling reasons to make it out to the Brandeis show. So be there, you little anonymous cybermonkeys.

Speaking of shows, big announcement: Scamper will once again be honored to share the stage with the lovely and amazing Kay Hanley at TT the Bear's Place on Thursday January 5. I'm not sure when tickets go on sale, but this puppy WILL sell out, so get 'em early and often.

Hope everyone had a happy Thanksgiving holiday. I ate so much stuffing that I think I'm actually made of stuffing now! OMG! There's stuffing coming out of my pee-pee hole! I should really see a doctor!!!!1111

But with the first of the Holiday-Season brand holidays out of the way, we're now back on track for a full week of fun fun fun in Scamperland. We're playing at Chum's Coffeehouse at the prestigious Brandeis University on Friday night - it's free and open to the public. So even if you're not a Brandeis Wingless Duck (I'm pretty sure that's the school's mascot), you can come on by and rock with Scamper.

In other news, I guess all the "boogie boogie boogie" action I had going for for the past 14 months of Keith's son's life have finally paid off with a nickname: I'm officially "Uncle Boogie." I guess it's easier for a one-year old to say "Boogie" than "Brendan." Now Jason has an Uncle Diggity and an Uncle Boogie. He must think the world is a strange and disturbing place.

Ah well - I've had worse nicknames, like "Old Fat Moldy Balls" (from my college girlfriend).

Nothing much to report this morning. Sorry for all the people in town for the holidays that have trying to get in touch with me by phone. Apparently, the phone company doesn't like it that much when you "don't pay the bill." What the frig?

Hope everyone has a great Thanksgiving and remember:

Happy big 3-0 to my best buddy in the whole world, Mr. Joe Welsh of Fooled By April fame. Make sure you head over to his diary and offer him your best wishes peppered with a few classic "old guys have grey pubes" jokes. Those always go over huge.

Joe has accomplished a lot in his 30 years - one need only to see him play on stage to be overwhelmed by his musical prowess. He also somehow managed to get a brilliant, beautiful woman to (against legal advice) actually marry his sorry ass. He managed to kick his addictions (except his compunction for poodle buggery) and leave a clean, healthy and happy life.

Joe and I grew up together and all jokes aside, I'm really proud of the man he's become. So as he turns 30 today, let's raise a glass to my buddy Joe: you're not balding, you're not (that) fat and you're a hell of a lot more happy than you were at 15 or 20 or 25. I don't think you can ask for much more than that. And don't worry - you can always dye the pubes.

The reverend's first solemnization of the bond of marriage went off without a hitch. Congratulations to my little bro Colum and my new little sis Katie for taking the plunge and becoming husband and wife. It was a fun event with a few highlights:

- Just to freak out the bride and groom before the ceremony, I walked up to them holding the binder with the ceremony in it and said "I'm just making a few last minute changes. How do you spell 'douchebag'?" The bride didn't think that one was funny at all.

- You know how sometimes, when you're spending a lot of time around your family, you sort of secretly wish that you didn't have any family? Like, it'd be great if you could just fall off the grid and be left alone for the rest of your life? No? That's just me? Suuuure.

So while I'm up on the altar conducting the wedding with all my extended family listening to me, I had a moment. It suddenly occurred to me: I could end it all right here. Drop one C-word, expose a buttock or two and I'm done with this family. I could go out in a horrifying blaze of bare-assed glory. No more Christmas, no more weddings - complete and utter solitude for the rest of my life. It was only the culinary bliss of my mother's Thanksgiving marshmallow sweet potatoes that brought me back from the edge.

- Apparently, I did a nice job as reverend, as I got a lot of very serious offers - all for funerals. My dad's friends who are staring down the barrel of mortality apparently want their last rites performed heavy on the dick jokes. And, as a godless heathen with no respect for all that's sacred, I'm happy to oblige. I'll put the fun back in funeral.

- Speaking of family, I learned (to my horror) that some of my cousins read this journal (Hi guys). And they have some serious questions. My cousin Sean pulls me aside after the wedding and says, "I've been reading your journal and I've just got to know - are you gay? It's okay if you are - I just think you should have told us."

Shocking, I know. I'm aware that I may come across as a lot of things on this journal - crass, tasteless, sacrilegious, showing signs of borderline personality disorder... but gay? Is it because I talk about my drummer's balls so much? And does my ass look fat in these jeans?

Tonight is the night in which I put my reverend skills to the test and officiate my brother's marriage. I probably should have started writing the ceremony earlier than this morning. Here's what I've got so far - let me know what you think:

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony. For those of you wondering how I got ordained as a minister, I answered an ad in the back of Barely Legal magazine. So rest assured - this marriage is legal. Just barely.

I've got to admit - I'm a little nervous about officiating this wedding. I hope my Catholic upbringing doesn't cause me to fall into those old priest-like habits. I'm looking in your general direction, ring bearers. Meow. Anyone got any MC Hammer? (Read Wednesday's journal entry. Trust me - that shit is funny.)

I would like to welcome the Irish side of the family that flew over for this event. I'm sure will be confused by the lack of an eternal Catholic mass. Have any of you ever been to an Irish wedding? It's like an hour and a half about Jesus and God. I guess they figure that marriage is an endless, confusing ordeal based on a false idea, so you might as well get started early.

I kid, I kid. What's up with the bridesmaids, huh? I haven't seen that much exposed back fat since I was in Thailand that one time and... what? Wrap it up?

Okay, thank you - you've been a great audience. I'm also available for christenings, bar mitzvahs and circumcisions... I won't charge you a fee, but I will keep the tips. Good night!"

Good morning, my fine feathered friends. You are all looking well, as usual.

If you didn't get a chance to hear us on the radio this weekend, the beautiful and ever-ebullient Stacy transcribed the interview right hnyaw. Scamper thanks her once again for her above-and-beyond service to the cause. Who loves you, baby?

But the lesson here is that you shouldn't miss Scamper on the radio, because every word that falls from the mouths of Scamper is like a tiny gold-flecked dropping from the ass of a magic goose to be gathered, shined up and posted on the interweb around which future generations will base their peaceful and prosperous societies. So don't miss us when we're on the radio. The future of civilization hangs in the balance.

In other civilization-ending news, I will perform my first marriage as reverend tomorrow night. I wish you could all be there and see me in my reverent glory. But sadly, it's sold out. I hear the scalpers are being very reasonable about the whole thing, though.

Sorry, friends - work is slamming my ass like it's my 300-pound cell mate, so I've got to make it quick today. I don't even have time to make offensive jokes about WWII veterans. There's just not the time! To joke about the veterans.

It seems that I can't open my mouth without offending someone lately. Yesterday, I was told that some of the jokes I made on the air on Sunday night could be offensive - apparently, I shouldn't make jokes about fires. Even if Scamper turns into Voltron and saves Kay Hanley from a fire - STILL in bad taste.

I just don't know anymore. I was tragically born without the "get offended at jokes" bone in my body. I can't remember a single time in my life when I was offended by something with humorous intent. To compound that, I hang around with too many stand-up comics, Joe Welsh and other generally sicko fucks. I just don't know what's too far anymore!

So I guess I'm asking for your help. So I'm going to list a group and you guys can vote on whether I'm allowed to make jokes about them or not. Here goes:

- bald guys suffering from phantom limb

- Crimean War veterans

- registered nurses who have been raped by guys who kind of look a little like George Takei, Sulu from the original Star Trek series

- golfers from Connecticut

- Japanese guys who suck at karate

- Peloponnesian war veterans

- stupid kids who think that Santa is real

- robots that aren't really robots but are actually vacuum cleaners

- pedophiles who can only achieve arousal with a child if MC Hammer's "Please Hammer Don't Hurt Them" is playing in the background

- people tragically born without the "get offended at jokes" bone in their bodies

- whoever married Mr. T

I need your help, friends. What's a boy to do?

Oh, how I missed you, my little lost wildebeasts. You're nothing without me. Don't you ever forget that.

Thanks for all your good wishes and encouragement - the GREs went just swimmingly, thank you. Apparently, I'm an top-notch guesser. But I really appreciate all the private and public support with which you guys showered me. You cats and kittens never cease to amaze me. You are really the best. As the late Barry White would say, my unlimited love to y'all.

Another big thanks to Dave Duncan and the good folks over at WFNX for having us on the air on Sunday night. We had a lot of fun... once we managed to find our way into the studio.

When we arrived at the building in scenic Lynn MA, we followed the instructions to take the elevator to the 3rd floor. Unfortunately, the elevator wasn't working. We tried to call the studio, but they weren't answering the phones. Scamper was basically wandering around the building, trying to figure out how to get to the studio. All the doors were locked. I know this is an overused simile, but I swear - it was just like Spinal Tap! Fa fa!

When you are thrown into situations which require problem-solving and critical thinking, you learn a lot about yourselves and your band members. It's quite the little sociological experiment. We naturally split into two factions: the "knock on every door until someone lets us into the studio" faction (Keith and myself) and of course the "wander outside for some reason and get ourselves locked out of the building" faction (Nate and Mike).

After a strenuous debate (governed by the Roberts' rules of parliamentary procedure, of course), our two factions were reunited and brought the funny to the airwaves. Thanks all for listening.

Did I miss anything?

I've got a super-duper long weekend coming up, as tomorrow is Veteran's Day and I'll be taking Monday off for the GREs, so you won't have me to kick around until Tuesday-ish. But here are a few things to remember in my absence:

- Tomorrow, find a military veteran and thank him for his service. Then while you're shaking his hand, remind him that he risked his life and made the ultimate sacrifice so that you now have the freedom to masturbate wearing nothing but an American flag as a diaper. Look him in the eye and give him a sincere "thank you" for that. Veterans really hate that shit, especially the WWII guys.

- Speaking of American duties, we must take the right to vote very seriously. Millions of people all around the world still don't have the privilege, so we must not take it lightly: it's important that you go on VH1.com and vote for Antonio Sabato Jr. in the "But Can They Sing?" contest. If you don't vote, that Gotti kid wins. It's the right thing to do.

- Vote with your radio dial (I know, weak metaphor) and listen to Scamper on New England Product on WFNX 101.7 at 10pm on Sunday. We're being interviewed, which is always fun fun fun. And then there will be a world premiere of a spanking new song that you haven't heard yet, featuring Kay Hanley on vocals and ME! ME! ME! on bass!

- Have you remembered to accept Jesus Christ as your personal savior? I'm just saying.

Ha ha - I love when people do that. Imagine I was just setting you up all this time with the dick jokes and the funny ha ha just to recruit you for Jesus? That's just good shit. Have a good weekend, pretty pretties.

Just when Scamper's luck was beginning to turn, it seems that some wanker was digging through some of our cars in my driveway during rehearsal last night. Luckily, nothing of value was taken - just a few bucks in change. Dealing with this shit is part and parcel of city life, but still - it's infuriating to think that while we're in the basement making the sweet love music, some creepy creepy is up in the driveway poking through our intimates. It makes me think twice about keeping my crotchless panties in the glove box.

Because of what was and wasn't taken, we're pretty sure it was a random drifter or bored teenager, but the thought does occur: maybe someone's targeting Scamper for harassment. Look, Syd - you already won the Hanson contest. No need to keep rubbing it in, okay? Leave us alone!

One brief funny moment during the whole ordeal was when I looked to see whether someone had ransacked my car... and I couldn't tell. It's probably time to tidy up the old vehicle a little bit. It also smells like a homeless goat's balls in there. Maybe an air freshener wouldn't be the worst idea.

So step up, America! Who did this to us? Admit it!

Big news: your buddies Scamper will be appearing on WFNX's New England Product this Sunday at 10PM. That's 101.7 in Boston, 92.3 in Southern Maine and New Hampshire and (if you're a chump and don't own a radio) streaming live at www.fnxradio.com.

Part two of the big news: on that very radio show, we will be world premiering a brand spanking new song. Not just ANY new song, mind you - your virgin ears will be forcefully penetrated by our recent collaboration with our friend Kay Hanley (Letters to Cleo). It's so new that even I haven't heard it. Craziness.

Being interviewed on the radio is one of my favorite parts of being in a band. I just get giddy when you put the microphone in front of me. In the past, I have pulled all kinds of stunts, such as working bizarre requested words into the interview (last time, I outed Daryl Hall as a cannibal. This is before he outed himself as having Lyme disease).

I'm looking to really shake up the airwaves this time around and perhaps even get the FCC involved. Any ideas?

Okay, I've got another GRE question for you:

"It's a Monday morning. Brendan got 3 hours of sleep. Despite this fact, his job expects him to actually, you know, 'work.' How many chatty 'good mornings' and annoying non-stop phone calls does it take before Brendan puts his forehead through the cubicle wall?"

Any good guesses?

Uh oh, looks like it's apology time once again:

My apologies to any of you who attended the Hanson show at Avalon last night. I heard that the chants of "We Want Scamper! (Clap clap clap-clap-clap)" were so overwhelming that they drowned out the music and ruined the show for everyone. I also understand that the riot police had to be called in to quell an ideological pro-Scamper uprising that was threatening to consume the entire Fenway area. It got so bad that during "Where's the Love?" a single adorable tear wound its way down Zach Hanson's well-structured cheekbone. And for this, we humbly apologize.

Apologies also go to our new friends over on the OK Go! message boards who may have been offended by some of my comments in my post-show wrap-up. I certainly didn't mean to make an unflattering comparison between OK Go! and Hanson, two bands that I happen to really like (for real). What I meant to say was this: please buy our album, t-shirts and new Scamper brand dishwasher detergent (now 45% more power-poppier!). Thank you for your support.

Finally, my most heartfelt apologies go out to the poor souls who were traumatized by my butchering of Jamiroquai's "Virtual Insanity" at karaoke last night. I swear I thought I knew the lyrics to that song.

Ahhh. That feels good. Anyone else have any apologies to offer? Let's get it all out there, people.

You know, the life of a rock star doesn't last forever. At any moment, this glorious power-pop machine known as Scamper is just one Keith Michel coke binge away from utter decimation. The point is - the rest of us have to keep one eye toward the future at all times. Which is why I'm applying to grad schools and taking the GREs a week from Monday.

Now, I've never had much of a problem with standardized tests. I even took the GREs right after undergrad and did remarkably well on them. So no problem, right? I'll just sit down with the review book and bang a few math problems out.

There's only one problem - apparently, I'm not smart at all anymore. In high school, I was an academic dynamo. But in the interim, my brain has apparently degenerated into a sloppy mound of chocolate chip cookie dough. Especially in math. Turns out I'm a giant mathtard. I need to wear a math helmet and take the short bus to math school.

For example, here's a GRE problem:

"Of the 200 seniors at Monroe High School, exactly 40 are in the band, 60 are in the chorus and 10 are in both. How many students are in neither the band nor the chorus?"

Seems like a simple enough problem to solve, but get this: the answer "Who cares because they're all fucking nerds?" isn't even one of the choices! It's just a bunch of numbers and shit. What the Christ?

Maybe when graduate psychology programs see my math score, they'll say "Brendan is a great candidate to counsel special needs kids because he is one."

Well, as much as we really enjoyed groveling for votes in the Hanson contest and ultimately losing (the lesson, as always: never try), it's time for Scamper to move on with our lives. Here's how each of us is planning on dealing with life, post-Hanson:

- With Theo Epstein's departure, Keith has been named interim general manager of the Boston Red Sox. Since he will be spending most of his time reorganizing and labeling the dugout bat rack, day-to-day operations of the team will be handled by his wife Alena. She will immediately fire Ortiz for striking out once on opening day, because God, she just HATES that shit. The rest of the team will quit soonafter because they just can't take being yelled at in Russian anymore. The one exception will be Jason Varitek - Alena will then quickly trade for Jason Bay and Jason Isringhausen, because someone named Jason could never do anything wrong boogie boogie boogie.

- Nate has left the world of rock and roll behind to fully embrace his S&M alter-ego Spanky McSlapmyass, the Human Abuse Magnet. His specialty? Being chained to the frame of a Buick Skylark while two 7 foot transsexuals named Laverne and Shirley pour 300 degree melted Twinkie filling on his uvula. Let me tell you - it's very sexy. He'll spend 3 nights on the club scene, followed by 4 nights in the hospital.

- Tired of Scamper's shenanigans, Mike will leave our sorry loser asses behind and start a new band called Mikey Miracle and the Valhalla Honey Express featuring his right testicle on bass and his left testicle on lead guitar. His taint will be the lead singer. They'll do mostly modern Christian rock with the occasional Hall and Oates cover thrown in there. They'll win a Latin Grammy, although no one's really sure why.

- As for me, I'm going to dedicate all my time to my new taxidermy career, specializing in people who want to kill their neighbor's cat and then pose them in sexually provocative positions. So yeah, I'm going into the family business.

So as you can see, we're going to be just fine. Don't cry for us. Just go, Hanson! We never loved you anyway!

A big hearty congratulations to Syd, the winners of the Hanson opening band contest. Hooray for them, boo for us.

In the end, it's actually a good thing that we lost because now we don't have to deal with any of those messy "Mike's not legally allowed within 50 feet of an underaged girl" issues. It's true - his overwhelming machismo has been known to launch tweeners into sticky premature puberty. It's true - his zexi is illegal in 13 states.

Even though we lost, the contest was completely worth every second. First of all, we met a lot of new folks through the link on the Hanson site. Secondly, I learned that if you mobilize all your friends and fans to unite and take action under a common cause, it just doesn't matter. You'll lose in the end. So thanks for that.

Most rewarding of all was witnessing Keith's attempts to bond with the kids over on the Hanson message boards. I could almost imagine his stomach churn as he peppered his posts with gratuitous happy faces and "LOL"s. It was hilarious.

But seriously - thank you all for voting. We'll let you know when the voting for our "Open for Color Me Badd" contest starts.