I found my hat.

I was forced to offer up a future "favor" to my good friend Sky in order to get him to turn it over. I was forced to debase myself at the feet of my good friend Matt in order to finally lay my hands on it again.

But really, that's all fine. As I begged and pleaded with Sky on the phone, ecstatic visions of the hat danced through my mind. As I prostrated myself before Matt and kissed his extended pinky, I could almost feel the hat on my head, surrounding me and comforting me in my hour of need.

And now... now it's mine again.

The hat is precious. I have few truly precious things. My treasure is limited, and strange. Here are my ten most valued possessions:

• My floppy black hat.
• Flapjack's Santa hat.
• My leather trench coat.
• My tattered walking boots.
• My smiling walnut head charm.
• The Holy Unspeakable Filing Cabinet.
• Sarah's class ring.
• A briefcase in my closet, with assorted contents of dubious and disturbing nature.
• My copy of the Principia Discordia
• Chamber's The Mask

As you can see, if I was ever exiled to a desert island and only allowed to bring a handful of possessions, I would die in short order.

Of course, I could always eat the burnt blueberry bagel that's in the filing cabinet... but after seven years, it's more than a bit stale.

I suppose that some of the tools in the briefcase might facillitate my survival. For a while anyway.

In any event... the hat. Hurray, hat!