As LiLu always says:
***Alright, folks, you know the rules. Join us all in humiliating the crap out of yourself every Thursday by sharing some completely tasteless, wholly unclassy, “how many readers can I estrange THIS week??” TMI story about your life. Or hell, about someone else’s!
In this great tradition, I present you with a story you probably never wanted to hear. If you really need to continue to have a good impression of me, are related to me in any way, or are easily skeeved out I suggest you go else where now...like right now...inmediatamente!***
New Year’s Eves have typically been a smorgasbord of TMI stories for me, as I assume they are for most people. Since many of them are too brief to devote their own posts to, and because I would have had to have started in mid November and, friends, we all know I don’t plan that far in advance.
So without further ado, in no particular order, New Years Eve, She laughs too easily & cries too hard… style:
~Two years ago, when I was still with the Ex, we were a friend’s where we had rather routinely gone since High School. Johnny, being a generous friend, had brought with him a bottle of Dewar’s White Label which had been sitting in his parents’ house since the days before he was a twinkle. The Ex, being rather a fan of Scotch, decided to have at it…and finished half the bottle by 11pm.
At midnight, I was in our friends’ bathroom stroking his head as he prayed mightily to the porcelain gods.
Happy New Year.
~Last year, I was down in my old college town visiting Indie Jake for New Years. Things were actually going rather well, filled with drinking and dancing though I did get a martini tossed all over me at one point, indicating that the guy I’d been flirting with all night was a bit too far gone to be of use to me). We get back to IJ’s townhouse which is nice and quiet because his roommate (real sweet guy) was God-knows-where. I crash on the couch…and then proceed to listen to IJ and his new girlfriend get busy for the next hour.
Apparently, no one had told him in the two years he lived there, that his floor and bed squeaked.
Happy New Year.
~But the piece de resistance, the real winner, was a few years ago. My sophomore year in college, we couldn’t go to any of the normal houses that we went to so we decided to get a room at a sketchy motel on the highway in town and do New Years there. For $52 bucks (split between like 6 people) we could ring in the New Year in peace.
Well almost in peace. You see I was rather bothered because I had just found out, the week before, that my at-the-time best friend, whom the Ex hated with a passion (and perhaps good reason), had gotten engaged to his girlfriend and that sooner or later I was going to have to tell the Ex.
After copius alcohol enabling, we all decided that a game of strip poker was in order. Here’s a hint folks. I’m pretty sure a game of strip poker among friends who are practically family is never in order. I, luckily, don’t remember much of this, so while I have seen all my nearest and dearest in their birthday suits, I can’t dwell on it.
Then, with the help of our friendly DD, we decided it was time to get some Taco Bell, on the way to which I drunkenly and tearfully explained my predicament to my girls. They assured me it would be okay. We eat bad tacos.
Back at the hotel, I break the news to the Ex, but since I didn’t want to do so in front of everyone, I took him into the bathroom. Afterwards he is pissed, but we are both too far gone to care. I decide to make the fact that I had to break such unpleasant news up to him.
Another hint, all your friends will totally hear when you smash your head into the edge of the toilet because you are off balance through the bathroom wall…
Happy (almost concussive) New Year!
This year I am supposed to be going to Atlantic City (woo Monopoly) with Johnny, the Gentleman, my scorpio friend and two other boys, but right now it’s snowing so who knows what that means.
Anyway, wishing you and all yours a truly happy new year.
…and maybe a few TMI stories in 2010, just to keep it interesting.