Da Bachelorhood

My New Year’s resolution is to stop saying “you go girl” to myself. - Zach Galifianakis

New Years has always been a letdown for me. I have never once had a crazy time bringing in the new year, except maybe for that one time I ate out that underage girl in my friend’s sleeping bag (it was legal, albeit vaguely unethical. That sleeping bag never smelled the same). The most excitement I get out of the new year is when I go back to work and can playfully banter about how I keep forgetting to write an 8 instead of a 7. It’s a real hit with the 55 and over crowd…….. WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT? I have experienced a lot of crazy things in college (my freshman-year dorm floor getting written up a week before our first semester even began, paying two people to make the sex in front of 6 or so close associates, stumbling into Denny’s drunk at 730am, realizing I left my tab open at the bar, and then going back to drink until 1030, etc etc etc), but New Years has never been the hootenanny that Dick Clark promised me (although one more stroke for him and his New Years Eve special will be HILARIOUS).
The only action I can take is to layout my perfect New Years Extravaganza for you all to read. Then, hopefully, we can work together to make it happen when the next year comes around.

New Years 2009: My Perfect New Year

Jan 31 2008: 12:00am
First and foremost, New Years Eve celebrations should start at midnight on New Years Eve: 24 full hours before all you gangly vagines start the celebration. At the strike of midnight signaling New Years Eve, I am going to close my eyes and should immediately be felated. I don’t care who, frankly I don’t want to know who, but it better happen. And whoever it is better be agile and dexterous, because I am not going to stop socializing at the bar while this is occurring. They must also be fast. I will not tolerate a blow-j that lasts any longer than 45 seconds. Not during my perfect New Years celebration, no m’am (or sir… I don’t know, my eyes will be closed. No judgments). Including the prepping, the unzipping, and the moisturizing of the lips, this should not last any later than 12:03am. Moving on.

12:03am
I do 7 double shots of reallllly expensive vodka on Shaquille O’Neal’s tab and pass out. A man’s gotta sleep sometime.

5:30am
I awaken in the middle of a rap video shoot on a yacht sailng on international waters. I am quickly felated again by two very clean Cuban girls/women (it should be hard to tell if they’re girls or women). Again, including prep time, this should take no longer than 12 seconds (Cubans are a very efficient people).

5:32am
All of the sudden, the yacht gets attacked by pirates. I come to realize that I have my own theme music playing as I ward off the rapacious pillagers. I subdue every last one of the pirates utilizing various martial arts techniques and then pilfer their booty. (NOTE: during the fight scenes, slow motion shots of me breaking people’s arms can and will be dramatically inserted as needed).

6:05am
I admire the gleaning sun rising over the tranquil ocean. A single tear rolls down my cheek as I contemplate all that is beautiful in the world. One of my dearest childhood friends witnesses this moment, so I rip his face off with my bear hands (not a misspelling). I’m a man, goddammit!

6:32am
I sail the ship back to American waters just by willing it to be so. I and the remaing survivors (all female) participate in what can only be described as an epic pansexual journey into the depths of pleasure. A single tear rolls down my cheek.

10:12am
We arrive in New York harbor where I am greeted by a monkey dressed as a butler. He gives me a suitcase containing $12 million in non-consecutive unmarked $100s. I take the subway to Duncan Donuts to grab a cup of coffee and a golden-toasted everything bagel with garden-vegetable cream cheese. It is delicious.

11:24am
Shopping!

1:14pm
I steal a cab for no fucking reason and drive around NYC picking up hobos and buying them lifetime supplies of Newport 100s in a box. One of them turns out to be Will Ferrel researching a role, and he puts me in his next movie, tentatively entitled “I’m a World Class Athlete on the Top of My Game, But an Adversary Enters My World and Steals My Thunder, So I Have a Humorous Mental Breakdown Involving Me Running Around Almost Naked, and Soon Realize I Had It In Me All Along to Overcome This Foe and Return to Glory” (currently in pre-production, nationwide release: Thanksgiving 2009)

6:06pm
The sun is setting and I begin to drink. Hard.

8:33pm
I’m so drunk, I think it is 2006.

9:41pm
I pay $4 million to have The Ball destroyed and replaced with one that says “Happy New Year 2006″

10:36pm
My butler monkey friend shows up plastered with a Perfect 10 model on his arm. I tip my glass to him from across the bar (in slow motion). He walks out (in slow motion). Bittersweet symphony plays. We never see each other again. A single tear rolls down my cheek.

11:38pm
The new year is soon to arrive, I am drunk as shit, and am covered in body chocolate, applied oh so delicately by Scarlett Johansson. I begin climbing the Empire State Building claiming to be Spider-Man’s cousin. DNA evidence shows that, yes, this is, in fact, true. I swing in the direction of Times Square, the wind in my face. (Oh, and I pick up Scarlett on the way. Someone’s gotta get this body chocolate off of me, it’s icky sticky).

11:58pm
Dick Clark strokes out on live television. The collective belly laugh of the entire city gives Scarlett an orgasm. I laugh, angrily call her a cheater, smile forgivingly, then kiss her passionately. We make zero-g love during our free fall from the top of a Midtown building.

11:59:42pm
18 seconds. One of my new hobo friends holds his 40 to the stars, and, through teary eyes, desperately begs God for a better year. I chuckle as he urinates in his own half-shoe.

11:59:58pm
I position myself in front of Scarlett, staring longingly into her eyes: they are beautiful, painterly pools of hope that signal a kind soul within. My deep and eternal stare shows her that my love is true and lasting. This causes her to shit her pants. I collect the specimen and sell it on ebay for $612,000.

12:00:00am 2009!!!
The lord of the underworld arises out of the depths of hell to reclaim Earth as his dominion. I flash my crazy eyes at him, and he nervously tries to play the whole thing off as a joke. I don’t buy it, so I destroy hell by sacrificing myself. The Devil is banished to the Phantom Zone (that floating square thing to which those evil kryptonians were banished in Superman II). Scarlett mourns my death by attending the University of Dayton to follow her dream of becoming a catholic schoolgirl (You’re welcome, UD. Just keep her away from the Sigma Chi’s). Peace on Earth prevails, and I spend eternity playing Heaven’s back 9 with Dick Clark. A single tear rolls down my cheek.

This is my dream New Year’s Extravaganza. Let us work together in making this a reality. Thank you for your time.

This entry was posted on Friday, January 4th, 2008 at 8:47 pm and is filed under Holiday Holocaust. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.