I love it: I just left the cafeteria to get some loose change from my desk so that I could buy some peanuts from the vending machine while my lunch heated in the microwave. I also brought Sports Illustrated with me so I could read an article from a couple of weeks ago. When I returned to the cafeteria, I dove right into the magazine, and here I am, back at my desk, 75 cents still in my pocket. It's OK. I probably won't be hungry enough for the peanuts after lunch. If I am, it's a short walk.

Apparently, all the "you're the man now, dog" hits I'm getting on my diary are not representative of the most popular searches of the year. I don't know what it says that "prom dresses" at No. 39 was followed immediately thereafter by "anorexia" at No. 40.

It's not just old Scottish men talking like hip inner-city kids that's drawing people to Exit 109. I've got Heather and Lauren pimping me out. "Obese cats" and "GAP crazy stripes" are on people's minds. At least two. Crappy kids drawings" remain as popular as ever, and "wild wedding pictures" and "Notre Dame band" have led you to me.

And that's all in the past hour.

There's one new one that made me laugh: "wearing leather pants in Amsterdam". The specifics of that crack me up. That, and "nude drive through Pittsburgh". Looking for something to do with jonboggs this weekend, Bassett? Maybe not, since you're not in Pittsburgh.

So. The company holiday party last night. Fun. They had tons of munchies beforehand and a decent buffet for dinner. The Party King DJed the event, complete with his Party Hoes, a group of women ��most of them in their 20s, it appeared ��who boogied and clapped their way through the tables handing out boas and sunglasses and hats and glow buttons and pulling people out on the dance floor. Wearing black pantsuits with jackets that had wide magenta lapels and sparkly zippers, they looked like cheerleaders. Or rejects from Satin Dolls. But they weren't ugly or anything. As a matter of fact, a couple of them looked like they might be rather attractive. It's just that they had, in Garry's words, "Stripper hair and stripper makeup." As in bottle-blond and caked-on.

"I've never seen a DJ with cheerleaders before," I said to Casey shortly after we sat down at our table.

"I know," she replied, "and I accidentally just made eye contact with one of them."

After the president's speech, the three musical skits and dinner, Casey sat there with her fork in her hand.

"I'm done eating, but I'm not letting go of this fork," she said as one of the cheerhoes walked by. Later, I was sitting with Garry and Dylan at their table when one of the sluttier looking ones came over and put her hand on Dylan's back and gave him a gentle rub and asked him to come out on the dance floor.

"That feels good," he said. "Keep doing that, maybe I'll dance."

I told him he had it backwards ��if he danced, then later he'd get more lovin'.