PTSOTL holiday re-runs!

Sure, I was thinking about maybe spending 100 dollars to get into a bar I usually go to for free and fighting off crowds of people doing the party equivalent of pushing out a five pound turd. Just pushing, and pushing, and trying and trying. Making weird faces. Hoping it will end soon.


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Maybe stand in line in zero degree weather waiting for one of the five puke-ferry cabs available for roughly a million people for a while. Probably do that. Then, let’s see, I dunno, pretend to be best friends with whatever dozen people I’m standing next to when the big hand on the clock points at a magic number. Maybe blast someone in the face and ears with some sort of noise horn or siren or rattle, doesn’t matter what it is as long as they are feeling the full force of my revelry vis a vis a 25 cent paper instrument. Next up I’ll drink some flat bubbly piss water out of a plastic cup. Gonna have to set aside some time to field twenty or so group texts from everyone wishing me a happy new year! That should take a minute or two. Ok, so it’s like 12:09 at this point? Let’s hit another bar. We’ll need to do the cab thing again, wintery purgatory style. Fall in a snow bank probably. Tend to one of my friends who got way too drunk. That should be a laugh. I always sort of wanted to be a triage nurse for a while. After that, who knows? Go sit in someone’s apartment and die a slow death, minute by minute, listening to everyone pretend anything is gonna be different this time around. The usual stuff.

Or I could, you know, not do any of that. Because I am an adult man.

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Why hating New Year’s means you actually hate yourself 

New Year’s Eve pre-game shaming ritual