The new year….

What a great time in a New York policeman’s life where he wakes up on december 31st and he says “tonight’s the night I don’t get laid”….he has to serve and protect the warm cup of piss he just got handed by a bunch of sloppy, drunk…. ass wipes who just lit the Empire State Building on fire

It’s a one night event where the whole fucking nation stands shoulder to shoulder…. freezing nut sacks, listening to Ryan Seacrest talk about Dick Clark’s 210th birthday celebration

While in the corner–Dick Clark’s slurring the words to “Happy Birthday” and spitting on the god damn cake…trying to blow out the fucking trick candles!!  finally eating the flesh on his hands trying to kram a wedge of cake through his dentures that keep falling to the fucking shag carpet beneath him 

The only good part is admitting yourself to rehab that night…because you have drank 32 and a half bottles of vodka and took a multitude of bong hits at MTV studios with “The “Pocket Possy” Three Six Mafia….

All that’s left is you urinating into grandpa joe’s mouth in the room next to you…because a corn nut got lodged in his throat while watching re-runs of baywatch on TBS, he’s gasping for his last moments on earth trying to survive with an IV attached to his penis…his body is more dried out than a prune field east of India, then you finally pass out on the back of a cargo ship headed for the Iraqi desert


The next morning…the streets of New York look like a Slayer mosh pit, that was lit on fire with napalm 

And who has to clean it up….

Vanilla Ice sweeps…while Michael Bolton vaccums


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