New Years Eve.

New Years Eve, the glimmer of light through the shit-stained glass that is Christmas. After a week of being stuck at home eating heart palpitating amounts of quite frankly boring food, one would expect that people would be happy to go out and get real messy. So why is it that NYE, by definition, is never what anyone expects?

Although we always have fun on New Years we always look back and think, "well, that was a bit awful really wasn't it". So why is it never actually good? Is it the viciously over-crowded clubs, the promised house parties which turn out crap or the fact that its going to be the start of another shit year for all?  Who the fuck knows. But on the other hand, why is it always fun? Is it the copious amounts of drugs, the generally positive atmosphere or being with friends regardless of how shit the club/party actually is? Who the fuck cares.

We started off drinking at a pal's house watching the game with a couple of buds. As the lads rolled in one by one the drinks got heavier and the music got louder. A couple hours before midnight we headed to the first party, one gram later, it was countdown time, cheesy shit. After midnight we decided to head to another of the parties we had established. From there on, our New Years consisted of trekking in the cold for about 4 hours for various parties, none which we actually attended in the end. On the plus side the fact that we had more drink and narcotics than Eric Clapton seemed to numb the feeling of disappointment as we realised it was time to go back to the original house.

Interestingly, it took four more nights of watching sports and getting high for us to leave that house and face reality. This is the fifth night, so how about it? One more night? yep, geddon!