This Saturday, following a fair bit of drinking at Bar Nine for Yoav’s twenty-sixth birthday, we all headed back to his apartment to brave the rain and burn a teddy-bear.

Sadly, neither Yoav nor I can lay claim to the idea of stuffed animal torching – the credit instead belongs to attendeed Mike Schupbach, three-time Emmy winner (seriously) and head Muppet Wrangler for Sesame Street, who suggested that Yoav write everything negative that had happened to him over the last year on a piece of paper, stick it up the bear’s hoo-haa, and then light the whole thing on fire in a Santeria-esque ritual that would doubtless permanently traumatize any six year-olds who happened to catch a glimpse of the action.

By the time of the burning, everyone wanted in on the act, and so the poor little bear was loaded up with an array of scribbled-on paper scraps, doused with enough lighter fluid to match Hades, and set ablaze.

The flames leapt a good five feet in the air, and when the rain finally cooled the embers, there was less left of Teddy than a well grilled hamburger leaves behind. And while we all likely took years off our lives inhaling the chemical fumes flame-retardant stuffing apparently puts out when push beyond the limits of its retardation, it was clearly worth it.

We left feeling cleansed, ready to face the world, knowing that whatever problems, trials and tribulations we’d previously faced had all gone up in smoke, stuffed up a teddy-bear’s ass.