New Year’s Day. A man-made calendar recognition festival that honors the yearly occurrence where the number of rotations around our sun is an integer. Yeah, right. Now that is a good reason for a holiday.

The best part, though, is the time-honored traditions of the holiday. Getting shitfaced because of a line being crossed on a calendar. Good times, good times. DUII incidents will spike just like the punch at the party.

The old year is represented by an old man. The symbology is not lost on me. The old man takes a kick to the fucking ball sack. “See ya, wouldn’t want to be ya,” we tell him. And why the hell not? He’s friggin’ old, dammit. Some extremely wise Eskimos practiced senilicide and our New Year’s customs tell us to keep at it. Personally I sit here patiently waiting my turn in that barrel.

The new year…