Zero comments after this post looks kinda grim, so I thought I'd say something here instead of adding to the thousand-comment "how many" thread.
You're still on your own finding the rest of "us," though, Ogged.
Hey, I just posted this! I don't need pity yet.
New Year's Day or New Year's Eve? Usually it's the New Year's Eve thing that bothers people. The midnight kiss and all.
Most NYEs in the past for me have been very dull, except for a few in college. I plan to be asleep before the ball drops; it's sort of like giving the finger to the New Year, but takes less effort.
a woman who's so hot that even dumb guys find you fascinating
What does this mean, exactly?
My (soon to be 14YO) brother's birthday is on New Year's Eve so I have sacrificed spending that holiday with friends for about 10 years because it meant so much to him for us to celebrate it as a family. I used to love NYE parties but the tradeoff to me has always been worth it. This year, he decided that he wants to spend it with his friends instead. Understandable (he is of that age) but I wish he had decided that before I booked my flight. Now I'm stuck in Ohio with nothing to do. Lame and depressing.
Becks, you're breaking my [expletive deleted] heart. I'm spending new years' eve grading papers. This is paradigmatically teh suxx.
Wow, you guys really are more pitiful than I am. Thanks!
Ogged, you're in Chicago, right? On New Year's Day, between 10 a.m. and 3 p.m., if you show up at Cafe Ba Ba Reeba (2024 N. Halsted) in your pajamas, they'll give you a certificate equivalent to the price of your meal (brunch), not including tax and gratuity. http://www.cafebabareeba.com/ I may go to this if I can persuade my wife. (I don't normally wear pajamas, but I have some goofy never-worn Cat-in-the-Hat pajamas someplace.)
I'm probably spending the early part of it doing philosophy.
Anyone know why the hell I didn't go into something that makes money? I'm talented at mathematics and most of the hard sciences.
I'm not in Chicago, Frederick, which is too bad, because going out in public in my jammies is just my thing.
My other brother is spending NYE participating in an all-night Halo tournament, which may slightly edge out my non-plans for lameness.
all-night Halo tournament
Actually, that sounds like fun. I remember the days when I would lug my entire PC to a friend's house to play Quake and Red Alert. We were having LAN parties before they were called LAN parties, damn it.
15 - Sigh. Actually, I agree. But that's not helping me feel better about my non-plans, dammit!
I plan to reminisce about Eves gone by.
Maybe I'll make myself some virgin eggnog for new years.
You know what you need, Becks? Initiative, young lady, initiative!
19 - I know. I know. Living in cities has made me lazy. What do you mean there aren't 10 things to do when I walk out my door? Bah!
Geez, Michael can't even spell his own name.
Can't even type my own name, Ben. There is a difference.
Change of plans. I'm driving to Irvine for New Year's to have a ball fighting Ben.
I'm too short for you, ogged, and I'm a couple of time zones away, but otherwise...
The New Year's Eve I spent in Edinburgh (Hogmonay) was really something. 1998-1999. It's week-long celebration, and I saw the most amazing fireworks.
Random drunk people asked everyone if they wanted to snog them.
"Ball Fighting Ben" would make an excellent nickname. ATM, of course.
God, I can't spell or type or anything just now.
I see that Ben has run away IN FEAR!
Random drunk people asked everyone if they wanted to snog them.
Everyone? Or everyone of the opposite sex? Did you happen to notice their success rate?
Sadly, while my plans this year - I have none - don't seem any lamer than others' lame plans, I probably have the longest track record of lame New Year's around here. I keep making resolutions to do something the following year, but by the end of January I'm already back to my old ways.
Just on my way to meet you, Michael.
People, there is something you need to know about Ben w-lfs-n. It pains me greatly to say this, but I must. Ben w-lfs-n hits people. Not just any people, but ladies - old ladies. Sorrowful old widows in nursing homes whose families never visit. Melancholy aged women who are now destitute, having been scammed of all their money by a cruel con artist willing to show them even scant attention. Ben w-lfs-n, the scoundrel, hits these women. With puppies. He says he does not want to soil himself by touching them. So he uses puppies. Live, fluffy puppies. This is the kind of person he is.
I was under the impression that a certain OC based blogger was already trying to arrange an interview with w-lfs-n.
Sorrowful old widows in nursing homes whose families never visit.
Exactly. Their families never visit, leaving them "lorn and loan and oansome", and I take time out of my busy schedule of having headaches and napping to hit 'em with some puppy love, and what do I get? Sniping. From the very people who abandon the elderly. That's right. Not last week I went and presented to Michael's agéd great-grandmother with a beautiful live, fluffy puppy, gently smacking her across the face with it the better to communicate to her its cuteness (no pain was caused, such was its fluffiness). Then we went for a brief stroll, gossipping about the goings-on in the wretched home in which Michael, about whom she had nothing but unkind words, had deposited her.
Then I went home to Michael's mother and rogered her insensible.
"Gossiping". Spirit of Michael, out!
The correct correction, I think, would have been "lonesome".
Mom says you were dreadfully inadequate in the sack, the insensibility was due to boredom, and she will not be wasting her time again.
Great-grandma, though, said you were perfectly adequate in the sack. To each her own.
I should have known that you're the only one who can satisfy your mom.
I fear my cunning remarks, challenging my opponent's manhood, were too biting for the young squire!
This does, however, remind me of a story related to me today, supposedly true, of an Arkansas politician in the 60s, who defeated his opponent by running a series of ads claiming that his opponent masticated in public and had familial relations with his sister.
Ogged, celebrate the Julian-calendar New Year in a couple of weeks. By then the whores will be charging regular weekday prices, and you can have a companionate New Years experience.
Your interlocuter has his facts garbled, Michael.
It was George Smathers, running against Claude Pepper in a Florida Senate primary.
"Are you aware that the candidate is known all over Washington as a shameless extrovert? Not only that, but this man is reliably reported to have practiced nepotism with his sister-in-law and he has a sister who was once a wicked thespian in New York. He matriculated with co-eds at the University, and it is an established fact that before his marriage he habitually practiced celibacy."
Unless there was an Arkansas politician who tried it again in the 60s, which is possible.
And we wonder why smart people can't win elections?
How amazing is the internet? Thanks, Joe.
I'm going to a party tonight, but just noticed that the invitation says fancy dress. I have nothing to wear. Nothing!
Apo, the quote was supposed to belong to Orval Faubus, but Google's not turning up anything for me.
I'm going to hear a baroque ensemble beforehand. I wonder if the newborn outfit will be appropriate.
"Are you aware that the candidate is known all over Washington as a shameless extrovert? Not only that, but this man is reliably reported to have practiced nepotism with his sister-in-law and he has a sister who was once a wicked thespian in New York. He matriculated with co-eds at the University, and it is an established fact that before his marriage he habitually practiced celibacy."
In the version I recall from Mad Magazine 30 years ago, he also engaged in piscatorial acts on a boat flying the American flag and, in his youth, emulated the older boys on the playground.
I found some fellow who quoted the Mad version I recalled. The Internets are a wonderful thing:
"Mad's Guaranteed Effective All-Occasion Non-Slanderous Political Smear Speech" by Bill Garvin
My fellow citizens, it is an honor and a pleasure to be here today. My opponent has openly admitted he feels an affinity toward your city, but I happen to *like* this area. It might be a salubrious place to him, but to me it is one of the nation's most delightful garden spots.
When I embarked upon this political campaign I hoped that it could be conducted on a high level and that my opponent would be willing to stick to the issues. Unfortunately, he has decided to be tractable instead -- to indulge in unequivocal language, to eschew the use of outright lies in his speeches, and even to make repeated veracious
statements about me.
At first, I tried to ignore these scrupulous, unvarnished fidelities. Now I do so no longer. *If my opponent wants a fight, he's going to get one!*
It might be instructive to start with his background. My friends, have you ever accidentally dislodged a rock on the ground and seen what was underneath? Well, exploring my opponent's background is dissimilar. All the slime and filth and corruption you could possibly imagine, even in your wildest dreams, are glaringly nonexistent in this man's life. And even during his childhood!
Let us take a very quick look at that childhood: It is a known fact that, on a number of occasions, he emulated older boys at a certain playground. It is also known that his parents not only permitted him
to masticate excessively in their presence, but even urged him to do so. Most explicable of all, this man who poses as a paragon of virtue exacerbated his own sister while they were both teenagers!
I ask you, my fellow Americans: is this the kind of person we want in public office to set an example for our youth? Of course, it's not surprising that he should have such a typically pristine background
-- no, not when you consider the other members of his family:
His female relatives put on a constant pose of purity and innocence, and claim they are inscrutable, yet every one of them has taken part
in hortatory activities.
The men in the family are likewise completely amenable to moral suasion.
My opponent's second cousin is a Mormon.
His uncle was a flagrant heterosexual.
His sister, who has always been obsessed by sects, once worked as a proselyte outside a church.
His father was secretly chagrined at least a dozen times by matters of a pecuniary nature.
His youngest brother wrote an essay extolling the virtues of being a homo sapiens.
His great-aunt expired from a degenerative disease.
His nephew subscribes to a phonographic magazine.
His wife was a thespian before their marriage and even performed the act in front of paying customers.
And his own mother had to resign from a women's organization in her later years because she was an admitted sexagenarian.
Now what shall we say of the man himself?
I can tell you in solemn truth that he is the very antithesis of political radicalism, economic irresponsibility, and personal depravity. His own record *proves* that he has frequently discountenanced treasonable, un-American philosophies and has perpetrated many overt acts as well.
He perambulated his infant son on the street.
He practiced nepotism with his uncle and first cousin.
He attempted to interest a 13-year-old girl in philately.
He participated in a seance at a private residence where, among other odd goings-on, there was incense.
He has declared himself in favor of more homogeneity on college campuses.
He has advocated social intercourse in mixed company -- and has taken part in such gatherings himself.
He has been deliberately averse to crime in our streets.
He has urged our Protestant and Jewish citizens to develop more catholic tastes.
Last summer he committed a piscatorial act on a boat that was flying the American flag.
Finally, at a time when we must be on our guard against all foreign isms, he has coolly announced his belief in altruism -- and his fervent hope that some day this entire nation will be altruistic!
I beg you, my friends, to oppose this man whose life and work and ideas are so openly and avowedly compatible with our American way of
life. A vote for him would be a vote for the perpetuation of everything we hold dear.
The facts are clear; the record speaks for itself.
Do your duty.
http://www.thebackpacker.com/trailtalk/thread/20834,-1,2.php
Y'all don't want to know that I went out for dinner at a blessedly free-of-New-Year's-eve-revelry restaurant and then returned to an evening of fucking, watching fireworks out the window after fucking, and then fucking again, do you?
No, didn't think so.
If it makes anyone feel any better, I had multiple invitations and big plans for New Year's Eve; though I was sick from a cold in its sixth day and exhausted from a red eye on the night of the 30th and an immediately subsequent Saturday art class I went home to Brooklyn to fetch some possible outfits, with my heart just set on a froofy, grand dress that would have been just perfect for the whimsical New Year's Eve celebration I was going to, only to come home to discover that neither the dress, which I had bought just this summer, or *anything else I had brought* actually fit me, whereupon my boyfriend helpfully offered, "You haven't been exercising as much as you used to and you've been eating badly," and I glared at him balefully, and he tried to appease me by assuring me that I would look incredibly sexy in a size larger of any of those clothes, and I continued to glare at him balefully, grudgingly got out a dress that still fit and put it on, whereupon we commenced fucking, and then had a big emotional sex talk, which involved me crying (because I always do) and blowing freakish quantities out of my nose, because I was also sick, by which time it was eleven, and I was too exhausted to get out of bed, much less motivate myself to get to the party option two blocks away, which then led to some resurfacement of resentment about whether we do enough exciting stuff in our relationship, and some more crying (I was really tired), and my boyfriend went out to buy some champagne on the corner, and we had some at 11:50, but I was staring at Sleepless in Seattle on TNT in a stupor and we actually forgot to note the passing of the hour, and I made some New Year's resolutions to exercise more, eat better, and practice good dental hygiene, until I fell asleep without brushing my teeth at 12:30. So see, your New Year's can suck even if you have a date.
In case you were concerned, the sex talk was productive and I stayed home all day Sunday, so hopefully I will be better soon. Also, New Year's always sucks for me; it's kind of a tradition.