2006: Year of Reckoning

So Christine and I trekked up to New Hampshire to her friend's ski condo for New Year's Eve. They told her it would take around 2 hours, and it took like 2 and three quarters, so we're thinking they lied just so she wouldn't "fag out" i.e. be too lazy to come--like she's apparently been every other New Years. But the place was really cool, and had a great sled hill if it hadn't been icy as hell and we hadn't been drunk as hell by like 8 pm. I had a vision on the way there of breaking an arm, and the guys said someone breaks something every year, so i was like, this is one tradition that can stop right now. At least for me. I stayed safely inside and just put unimportant things like my liver and brain in peril. Christine's friend Sean, who owned the place, made these things that i think he called "Bacardi Bombs"--the premise is you mix every kind of Bacardi they make (including 151) with pineapple and orange juice. You would expect these to be disgusting, first because of the amount of alcohol, and second because of all the different flavors mixing together, apple and coconut and shit. Add to that that i hATe pineapple, and this should have been my bane. But somehow it tasted like candy. Maybe i was just drunk enough by that point. I only had one of these though, some others were not so fortunate. Christine stuck mainly to her box of wine so she was ok.
Oh, and in the town the condo was in, there was a hotel whose sign said something about offering a "Free Hummer" and I almost didn't make it to the party due to a laughter-related death