You stop writing 2002 on your checks and money orders and begin writing 2003. Now isn�t that just grand!

Yeah whoopty freakin do.

As you can see I�m a bit bitter. Well not really bitter just disappointed I have shit to do on New Years Eve. The only possibility I have is to see a friend of mine�s band play at a local bar that is in a hotel. Actually the gig isn�t in the bar, but the ballroom across the hall from it.

Sounds like a pretty cool thing to do. Problem is I�m flat broke thus making it impossible to pay the cover charge let alone any kind of drinks.

That leaves me with one option. Having a buddy of mine come over and the two of us hang out. Though we can�t get anything for the night since I�m broke and I�m more then sure he is too. So that means playing the role of pathetic loser at Oscar caliber ability.

A task I have more then mastered in my time. I�d teach a class on it, but I�m too much of a lazy fuck to get around to it. Well that and no one will pay me for teaching something like that.

The greedy fuckers.

Well that leaves only a few choices. Pick one of the many different marathons on so many channels. Or I watch Satan�s lap boy, Dick Clark, defy the aging process as he counts down the drop of the ball.

Right about now I�d weep openly, but I fear any extra sign of weakness might produce a gang of jocks out of thin air to pummel me senseless.

Actually I can�t even remember the last decent New Years Eve I�ve had.

The last two years I can�t remember for the life of me what I did. And the year before that, ringing in the year 2000, wasn�t exactly a joy. I had two friends over and I had purchased a gallon of Mudslides and a bottle of Southern Comfort. One friend got so sick that he couldn�t even drink, just sat on my couch feeling miserable. My other friend wasn�t feeling the best and pretty much stuck to the Mudslides, passing out around when the year switched over. This left me to drink a fifth of Southern Comfort all by myself. And by God I did it. This is why I don�t remember the rest of the night or half of the following morning.

So now we are rolling over to 2003 and what am I doing? Jack and shit and Jack just left town.

Actually I�m hoping my friend gets a hold of enough money to go to our other friend�s gig. Because right now this New Years Eve looks to be boring and miserable and really I�d rather do boring and miserable alone.

Yes, I know, how very sad and hermit like of me. Well hell I�ll find something to do if I�m alone. Watch some TV, read, play a game on Fernando, count the number of ceiling tiles in each room. If he�s here I�m limited on doing a few of these things in order to be a good �host�.

That and I�d rather see him go have fun at the gig then be stuck here with me.

Now this all wouldn�t be so bad if I had a special lady in my life here to celebrate the new years with a scream, whimper, or a sigh. All three of them if I can do it right. Only that just isn�t happening so count that one as nugatory good buddy and try not to think about it.

Too late, thinking about it, damn it.

Well I hope all of you have a better New Years Eve then what mine is looking to be.

And just one last thing, a mental note to me.

Remember to take off that damn new watch before falling asleep or expect, once again, to have imprints of the watch forged into your skin.

It would make good fun at a party though. On my wrist a deep red imprint of a wide leather band and two perfect ovals from the clasps that hold the watch to the band.

Random Party Goer #1: Hey, what�s up with your wrist?

ME: There was an alien abduction in my apartment last night and the little fuckers put the anal probe clasp on the wrong place.

Random Party Goer #2: Dude, you wrist is all fucked up!

ME: Yeah that�s what happens when you finally free yourself from the bonds that enslave you. By the way don�t tell anyone I said that I�m sure they are looking for me. Damn will they be pissed when the find out I didn�t finish knitting them dick cozies.

Random Party Goer #3: Oh my what happened to your wrsit?

ME: Fuck if I know, even the damn doctors are baffled by this. Though they are sure it�s incurable and highly contagious. Are you going to finish that drink?

Damn it, I�m having more fun at the party in my head then what will be my New Years Eve. I have reached a Zen like state that goes far beyond sad and depressing. I think I�ve now developed it into a philosophy on life.

So who wants to join my cult�er I mean my belief structure now?

I�ve got Kool Aid!

It's about time - Wednesday, Jul. 07, 2004
An Honor for Chrome - Friday, Feb. 20, 2004
A great loss - Monday, Oct. 20, 2003
a terrible announcement. - Tuesday, Sept. 09, 2003
Chrome speaks: - Friday, Sept. 05, 2003