New Year's Eve can either be the best night of the year or the most depressing. There's so much pressure for things to be triumphant, and the dawning of a less-than-spectacular new year can be an occasion for the dreaded "what am I doing with my life?" moping.Still, you never know what's waiting for you if you don't put on your party dress and go out. Rad shit happens:
2004: Las Vegas, Hard Rock Hotel. Sipping on a bottle of Ten High while Gary plays roulette. Kid Rock comes and sits at our table with his bimbo of the moment and asks me what I'm drinking. He wants some and I oblige him (it was funny but I was worried he was going to give me mouth herpes or something). I see Scott Weiland at some point. Gary puts $100 on #19 and hits it. That pays 35 to 1, so we walk out of the Hard Rock with $3,500 burning a hole in our pockets. Gary insists on a strip club and orders us the VIP room. Gary proceeds to purchase lapdance after lapdance while I order cheap champagne bottle after cheap champagne bottle. I make the strippers pour overflowing glasses of champagne like they do in the rap videos.
2008: Drunk somewhere along Bush Street in SF. The whole city was cheering as I sat on an apartment stoop with a flask of Seagram's 7. Fireworks.
2002: Drinking champagne happily alone in my ghetto apartment in Tucson listening to Bona Drag and Mirrorball. Insane next door neighbors screaming.
2003: Japan. Homesick. Went to the temple in Kikuchi to make a New Year wish and ate grilled squid and ramen afterwards.
2004: Las Vegas, Hard Rock Hotel. Sipping on a bottle of Ten High while Gary plays roulette. Kid Rock comes and sits at our table with his bimbo of the moment and asks me what I'm drinking. He wants some and I oblige him (it was funny but I was worried he was going to give me mouth herpes or something). I see Scott Weiland at some point. Gary puts $100 on #19 and hits it. That pays 35 to 1, so we walk out of the Hard Rock with $3,500 burning a hole in our pockets. Gary insists on a strip club and orders us the VIP room. Gary proceeds to purchase lapdance after lapdance while I order cheap champagne bottle after cheap champagne bottle. I make the strippers pour overflowing glasses of champagne like they do in the rap videos.2005: Ex-GF doesn't drink (how did that ever work?). In a hostel in Wellington, New Zealand, bored and wishing I was drunk.
2006: Champagne and whiskey with Wes at The Buffet in Tucson. The urinals are big troughs like the old days where you flop your dick out in front of everyone and hope you don't get pissed on. Somebody had written "Don't do coke in here" on the bathroom wall, and someone else had drawn an arrow to it and wrote "Then I'll do it at your moms (sic) house bitch." Slept in a Honda Civic and woke up very sore the next morning.
2007: Japan again. Went to the temple in downtown Kumamoto after mixing some songs in my friend's studio. Drank an Asahi スーパードライ as it snowed and the New Year bell rang. Walked home along a road that had been there for 500 years.
2008: Drunk somewhere along Bush Street in SF. The whole city was cheering as I sat on an apartment stoop with a flask of Seagram's 7. Fireworks.2009: Wes's mom's house. Ey-oh! That's on you, Wes! (Touch 'em up, self.)
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