Party like it’s 2012

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Vagabond Tim
Sadly this is the only photo among dozens that is not simply black

Sadly this is the only photo among dozens that is not simply black

So this new years it was decided that I would not in fact be hiding in my basement eating a can of cold beans and caressing a shotgun, as is my custom.  Instead for reasons not entirely clear to me I found myself standing outside in the snow surrounded by tiny humans and their respective parental care units watching fireworks. Fireworks by their very nature are awesome, in that a sky full of fire is an awe inspiring sight.

The Calgary zoo had switched to low noise fireworks presumably due to the fact that when animals stampede with nowhere to go the effect is not dissimilar to a meat grinder, or so Captain Reynolds claims.

The parking situation was somewhat tiresome as local custom is to drive as large a truck as one can fit their sibling/spouse and drooling gap toothed offspring in then park across as many spots as possible.  So despite there being nearly twice as many spots as vehicles I circled the various lots for about 45 minutes before simply parking on a sidewalk, effectively daring them to try and bring a tow truck into the labyrinth.

When the fireworks ended we headed over to a local club called Habitat, I assume this is a habitat for hamsters or some other very small animal as the entire club could be relocated to my spare room without encroaching upon the closet. Despite its small size and brain shattering volume a good time was had by all, facilitated in no small part by copious consumption of alcohol. At some point I was brought bottles of champagne that tasted of battery acid and sadness. The stroke of midnight occurred some time during the opening scene of 2001: a space odyssey which was inexplicably played on the wall without sound.

When I realized that a year had slipped by unnoticed I decided it was now time to begin the junket of house parties, much to my dismay my friends who used to be good for partying until well after dawn were complaining about being tired by three am. Given that I work nights that effectively translates to three pm for me and was far to early to call it a night, however the last place open that had both alcohol and food was my living room. The couches were thankfully empty but the dance floor also known as my kitchen was entirely empty except for a cat futility trying to gain traction on the hardwood while his long claws skittered uselessly.

All in all it was a good night in spite of my phones apparent inability to take a photo in the dark.

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