Hello gentle Americans. Today is the big day-New Years Eve!  Have you picked out your pretty cocktail dress, the perfect hooker heel, with matching bag, to ring in the festivities?  Have you purchased a new pair of jeans that make your ass actually look edible, not like the flat dry pancake it usually does?  Did you buy a cockring to round out the front as well?  What bar are you going to go to?  Remember to pick wisely, you know how last year turned out and you don’t want to have to repeat that night-the worst new years ever!

You found yourself in a small stank bar on the Lower East Side, alone, with a bunch of drunken strangers, no one to kiss as the ball went down except the guy standing next to you with one eyebrow and a nervous tick.  That’s what you get when you don’t make plans on the biggest day of the year and decide to go rouge. Of course you went home with him, because that is what you are supposed to do on New Years-get fucked up and fuck someone.  You go back to his place, in queens, the 7 train is packed with shit faced Mexicans wearing party hats and 2009 glasses, the faint smell of puke permeates the car.  His apartment is as bad as he looks-papers everywhere, empty food containers litter the studio floor and a poster of Zach Efron graces the wall.  The man is 35 and has poster of Zach Efron.  You hate Zac Efron.  But doesn’t everyone? “Maybe it is meant to be ironic?” You wonder to yourself. “Or maybe he is a pedophile?”   But you don’t care because you are drunk and horny and you are supposed to get laid on New Years.  It is in the New Years Eve rulebook, right?  Right below the rule about making a resolution that you will never keep so you can beat yourself up all year over it.  He removes some papers off the mattress on the floor and pushes you on it.  You fall on the TV remote and it digs into your back.  You let out a painful yelp but he doesn’t even ask if there is anything wrong and just pounces on you like an ape about to tear off your face.

4 minutes pass, or maybe it is 4 hours, and your still struggling to get your cloths off, which you never do, because he gets up off the mattress to use the bathroom and never comes back. 5 minutes pass, or is it 5 hours, and he still hasn’t returned.  You begin to get worried and you decide you should probably check to see if he is all right.  You are about to yell out his name, but you realize you don’t know his name, and you just yell out, “Heh, you in the bathroom, are you ok?” No answer.  Reluctantly you pick yourself up from the floor and go over to the bathroom door and tap on it meekly.  No answer.  After 3 minutes, or was it 3 hours, you decide to try to turn the knob.  It opens and you find him sitting on the toilet, with his pants around his ankles, passed out.  “Or maybe he is dead?” You think to yourself.  But you don’t care and take this as a sign from God that you should get the hell out of there.  On the way out there is table next to the door with a $20 bill and a stick of gum.  You take the twenty and the gum rationalizing that you need money to get back to Manhattan and that your breath probably smells like ass.  You can’t get a fucking cab in queens at 3 in the morning and you are forced to take the 7 train back.  It is still filled with drunken Mexicans.  Perhaps the same ones when you first got on.  You can’t tell they all look the same when you are drunk.  Finally you get home, take a shower, eat half an Entenmanns Crumb Cake, flop on the couch and make a promise to yourself-next year you will pay the $75 to go to a real party and not be so fucking cheap.

Happy New Years to all and to all a good night!

Stay fresh,

x

Hello gentle Americans. It seems I just can’t seem to get enough of my divas this week. Yesterday I delighted you with my drawing of Lady GaGa, so today I thought I would present you with the diva that inspired Miss. GaGa-the one and only Madonna. Sure she is old, her knees creak and she can’t digest vegetables but she is still the biggest star in the world! And don’t tell her otherwise or she may put you in a head lock. Enjoy my drawing my little love bugs.

Stay fresh!
x
Hedda