Dave and I usually don't go to wild and crazy parties. In fact, we never go to wild and crazy anything because most of our friends have kids, many of which are still in that weird, parasitic stage where they have to take them everywhere with them. So, on NYE we hung out with Dave and Christine at their nearby home, thus cutting the distance we would have to transverse in a less than optimal state (a few blocks, not driving thankyouverymuch). It was a good time, as is any party with gratuitous karaoke and lotsa booze.
We brought some crusty Italian bread, some good cheese and some prosciutto with us, and of course, a bottle of Asti. Christine is an amazing cook, and there were lots of great munchies, like fondue, stuffed mushrooms, stuffed endives, and other stuff containing beef that looked tasty but is off limits for me and my husband.
So, in between glasses of wine and champagne we chatted, sang, rang in the new year and generally got boozed up crazy-like.
If you couldn't already tell, I look like either a fish or a moron in all of the pictures we took that night. I have a tendency to do that when inebriated. Though, the best picture is child exploitation at its finest:
Cute baby holding a package of ... cock soup.
Happy New Year!