Another New Year's Eve has come and gone. The excuse to get completely stupid is over. Some drank to celebrate the incoming year; I drank to forget the last one. I'd say it was a success.
The usual craziness ensued. Isn't that the point? There's no real rhyme or reason for anything on that night.
I don't claim to be respectable or polite. I'm a drunken buffoon at times, and dammit... I'm allowed.
Late night bowling while sportin' a tight little number is not recommended. But we gave it all we had. Inspiration hit when Skid Row rocked the speakers and I snagged myself a spare.
I never said I was any good at it.
The boys were lookin' dapper, and the girls were dressed to the nines. Little did we realize just how sloppy you can make evening wear. I'm sure the two and a half Big Macs didn't help me look pretty either.
Needless to say, when it was all said and done, all we ended up with were hangovers, crazy pictures, and another year gone by.
Except for me. I got him to myself for a few days.
Welcome, 2008. You started off pretty damn good.