Preface: Please bear in mind* this article was intended to be read on New Year’s Eve, though it was written in early 2016. One of my New Year’s resolutions is to be less distracted by shiny objects, and more inclined to manage my time better (and less inclined against the bar most nights).
Time machine not included.
(*During a successful 14 hour neurological surgery the bear was removed by TV doctor, Dr House. Though not a real doctor per se, he has a delightfully funny bedside manner which was worth the risk)
As the last day of 2015 dawned upon us, friends were heard to shriek “AGH! A cockroach!!” for there was a large cockroach making its way across the seafood buffet.
And who could blame it. It was delicious (as was the seafood)!
Friends seemed shocked with the impending and inevitable movement of the world clock’s “year hand” ticking over to 2016, saying things like:
“Where has the time gone?”
“The year has certainly flown” and
“Look at that bloody big year hand on that world clock – that must take some big batteries to keep that thing ticking.”
Upon hearing these throw away lines through his rotten ears, Albert Einstein could be heard rolling over in his grave as the intricacies of his Theorem of Relativity are completely disregarded (perhaps also just the work of the large cockroach* and his hungry intrusion of like-bodied mates feasting on his carcass).
(*it is worthwhile to note that if you have ever been called a “sexy little nymph” by a suitor, partner, that bearded guy picking cigarette butts out of the garden, etc., they may all not be complimenting you on your sexual prowess, but be inferring that you are not too dissimilar to a baby cockroach – a nymph; ie. your penchant for feeding on human and animal food, and leaving an offensive odour, may be catching up with you. A nymph.)
Which, to save another awkward scene, it is lucky for all that Einstein is no longer invited to our New Year’s Eve parties.
Waking up to the New Year always leaves me feeling disappointed (though, it is fair to say, there is some relief in regaining consciousness) and with a bitter taste in my mouth. Or, more accurately, like some uncouth prankster pulled their pants down to half-mast and unleashed a post-beef-vindaloo’s steamy turd in one’s mouth.
New Year’s Day seems just like a rehash of the previous year – and with the same nausea and throbbing headache. I put this feeling down to the same thing that causes morning sickness: a foreign object entering the body, much like our bodies entering into the New Year. Though, most of us won’t be entering into 2016 through a vagina. I won’t be doing that again!
The nausea and pain can’t be the result of the emptying of the copious amounts of empty beer and wine bottles lying around the house and over the front yard. As that happened last year.
2016 sure does look messy.
I hope you all have a great 2016 (even if it is just a rerun of the previous year, with some added grey hairs thrown in to make it look updated). As a token of gratitude for your support over 2015 please accept the following complimentary cartoon of a sloth.
I sure hope someone remembered to bring in the New Year – we’re expecting rain tomorrow.
Ronnie Peace was born through a vagina, as was the style at the time of his birth. Ronnie was raised as a child, even to this current day. His education was haphazard at best, suffering largely from medically undiagnosed learning conditions known as 'easily distracted', 'short attention span' and 'little shit'.