New Years

Well the only way to start about New Year's is that it was quite the scene. As an abstract, I dominated myself with screwdrivers all night on top of whatever else was donated to me. But to tell the story best I must start from the beginning or as much of it as I can remember.

I left Brownzmania early friday morning to arrive in K-town later. The journey for the most part runs smoothly. I got up at 5 am on the dot, left the house at 525, got on the go train to union at 550, arrive at union at 630, get breakfast, board the train at 655 and arrive at 915. This is where the efficiency stops. I had previously arranged with McM to get a ride at that time. He tells me to call about 30 mins before I get into K-town (pressumably so he can wake up, have coffee, and arrive to VIA on time). For once in my life, I'm actually prompt and accomplish calling him on time. However, McM shows up 30 minutes later than 915 and like the ass that he is, promtly shows up honking his horn right in front of via for a solid minute. Though I'm ready to burst, he has offered to pick me up, so I let it go. At this point however, I found out that we're going on a bit of a detour out of kingston. I don't mind this so much as I'm use to it, but instead of telling me where we're going, a constant destination point of the 'portal' is made. Once is funny, twice is pushing it, seven times and I'm once again ready to hit someone. Though, I find out that we're picking up Keeves and the Hamma and the idea of them camping in the middle of winter once again brings smile to my face. On the way back, we are watching Elf in the backseat (McM is driving his Dad's pimped out 2005 pilot) and are doing commentary to it which makes it that much more fun. Will Ferrell is too funny though and after about 20 mins we decide its time to watch the movie. We complete tasks of dropping people off and acquiring appetizers and what not.

House gets cleaned, alcohol gets made, showers are had and OC gets watched (So begins the obecession). People arrive. Hilarity begins. We begin the night with a little wrasslin all the while stuffing our faces with feta paté. I choose my drink of the evening which is the screwdriver. I have a pretty high tolerance so I make doubles. Eventually, everyone arrives and I'm starting to settle into the evening. After about three or four doubles I decide to change the way I'm making drinks. Usually I add ice, vodka to the top of the ice then add OJ. My new plan? Add ice, fill to the top of ice with OJ and then add vodka to the top. This takes is from about a double to a triple. I think I downed two of those but things get foggy at this point. Bei-Ruit begins and I get looped into things. I make a tag out because I'm too drunk to see and let another take my place. The team ends up losing and decides to pawn off their lost cups onto me because I'm a champ.

This is where things go downhill as the mixture of beer and vodka put me over the top. I remember the new year vaguely and bits and pieces til two. As McM's blog points out, I did wet myself slightly but pissed is far from the truth. Circumstances surrounding this are mysterious though as I don't remember having to go to the washroom or any dire urgence to urinate. But as I said, I can't remember a whole lot as is. [I should point out here that William Matthew Kirkey is a direspectful ass (more colourful words are jumping into mind, but I'd like to think I'm above that) for not only posting a hugely exagerated story but also a video which I'm not so proud of.]

Things continue upwards from there thankfully as I change my pants (in what was a comical moment) and come back down for the rest of the night. At this point I'm smart enough to cut myself off and McM is feeding me water perhaps saving me from certain doom. People slowly start dissapearing and I'm snapping photos like no ones business. My rate of speech slowly returns to normal from its drunken banter state. BPIC shows up around 3am(???) and we smoke some fun stuff and hang for a bit. I'm telling him a story about Sparxx and all of a sudden I hear this nutty noise from the kitchen which I would later find out was Hamma making songs on pots and pans (Our non-stick pans hang from a rack on the wall). The story goes that RA was taking his car home and wrote him a note in his pocket so he'd know. As a joke though he said that the note wrote 'Whether some prime number was acutually prime' to which a song began about the number being 'even or odd'.

Keeves and Hamma are done and pass out. One sucessfully on the couch and the other laying beside two pillows, a sleeping bag and holding a folded blanket like a teddy. BPIC decides to stay and make sure I don't die. We begin to watch movies from the Club Instructor course (which are sweet) and I tell him it would likely be best if I puked. I headed to the washroom and after hovering over the toilet I begin to pass out as oppose to puke. With my last remaining energy, I gather myself up, tell BPIC that I need to pass out and do this.

The next morning I wake up to McM knocking on my door asking me if I'm okay. Strangely I don't feel so bad. My theory is that the OJ sugars saved me somehow. We gather up the troops, laugh hysterically at the 272 mb of media from the last night and head of the McDonalds for double cheeseburgers. At this junture I realize I'm still drunk as while take my order, I'm exchanging lines with Keeves from Elf. ("I painted a picture of a butterfly today"; "Guess what? I saw a dog today. Did you see a dog") This drives the McDonalds lady nuts and not surpsingly she screws up the order. Oh well.

When we return, we eat, watch Hulk Hogan vs. Macho Man from wrestlemania five as the Mega powers exploded. We also decide that we need to watch an elimination chamber match as there is one comming up on Jan 9th at New Year's Revolution. At this point my tummy is letting me know that I was bad last night and so begins the day of recovery and cleaning. Cleaning gets finished, I call my parents and with all the brain power I can muster, have a somewhat decent conversation with them and the proceed to crash for an OC marathon. That perpetuated the start of my OC addiction and is a story for another day.