Just now having read the email from Cody from before New Years regarding the menu for the festivities Sunday night (see what happens when you normally just send me cartoons and weird messages about the end times?), it occurs to me that I used to do quite a bit of reporting on our various parties and social gatherings. I think I slowed down a little on that when my dear mother became a regular reader, but since Sunday was a major celebration, it's only right I should at least mention it. Sunday was not only the New Year, but was also a celebration of the Skulls' victory in the annual Trivia Pub Crawl. The trophy for said crawl is currently residing on my book shelf since our home bar is no more (RIP Peppers). I'm not sure if we'll be able to field a proper team next year, most of us having missed an entire year of Don's current events questions. But for this year, we emerged victorious. Our prize money was dedicated to the party, and for three hundred dollars you can have yourself a quite decent little gathering. Split evenly between beer, liquor, and food, there was plenty of everything to go around. The crowd built slowly and reached its peak just before midnight. After midnight the keg floated upward through the ice water, and various factions drifted off into the night. Out of habit more than necessity I make it a point to stay off the road between the hours of 8 and 2 on New Year's Eve, so I got to enjoy pretty much the entire party from beginning to end, though there were a few early revelers when I arrived and a few stragglers sitting on the porch when I left. This compensated nicely for the week before when I was forced by the requirements of work and early shopping to leave the Christmas party before midnight. I'm fairly certain everyone (well, almost everyone) had a great time. A few people in attendance were not of the usual crowd, but I don't think anyone made any trouble. One unfortunate young man fell in the champagne covered kitchen floor and got his tail a little wet. It seemed to bother him a great deal more than doing it twice bothered me two years ago when I'm fairly certain I fractured my tailbone (just the coccyx, not the pelvis) or at least knocked it loose from the adjoining bones. His problem was the quality of his friends, who instead of screaming in appreciation for his revelry, instead made fun of him for getting his pants wet. He left unhappy. With friends like that, it may not be the last time. For myself, I managed to maintain a level of intoxication that was very enjoyable for the entire time I was there. I guess it's all about pacing yourself. The half gallon of Jim Beam finally ran out about 1:30, so my last half cup of bourbon was filled from my own bottle. I was very careful to make sure the bottle ended up going home with me. Something that I sometimes fail to do.