Are you having fun yet? You better bloody had be, it’s New Year’s Eve and it’s the law.
It’s New Year’s Eve and the Fun Police are out in force so don’t even think about curling up with a book or sinking twelve pints of Baileys in front of Crocodile Dundee.
But perhaps you’ve forgotten the ten commandments of New Year’s Eve, famously handed down to Mo Farah on Mount Sinner?
No matter, The Trashy made a pilgrimage to Threshers in Sunderland to unearth the holy tablet and remind you of the protocol as the planet completes another loop around the sun…
- Thou shalt accept the first invitation for merriment you receive with intense relief, for thou is not especially well liked and others may not be forthcoming.
- Thou shalt visit purveyors of ethanol and victuals, acquiring as much as thine budget will allow. If thy purse is light on monies, three packets of Space Raiders and an out-of-date bottle of advocaat from thy corner shop will suffice.
- Thou shalt shoehorn thyself into unflattering sequinned garments and apply thy make-up with a heavy hand in a bid to make thine mutton appear more lamb-like.
- Thou shalt forget to prebook a taxi and find there none. Thou shalt cycle seventeen miles in six inch heels and polyester party dress, leaving a trail of purple sparkles in the snow.
- Thou shalt know thy limits and ignore them, imbibing and gorging like it is the end of the Roman Empire, or a pie-eating competition.
- Thou shalt dance, jiggle and stomp to the music, performing what looks to bystanders to be some kind of haka, only with more glitter and less muscle tone.
- Thou shalt frighten any attendant children.
- Thou shalt pump thine arms and bellow Auld Lang Syne aggressively into the faces of your fellow revellers, before quietly mumbling something about acquaintances and kind cups. Thou shalt wonder what Robbie Williams was thinking when he penned such gibberish. Thou prefers Angels.
- Thou shalt indiscriminately wipe thine wine-stained lips across the faces of friends, head-butting some, licking others, burping on a few, as the bell tolls midnight.
- Thou shalt continue to party like the less restrained lovechild of Lindsey Lohan and Pete Doherty until thine organs fail, thy loses thine tiny mind, or the local constabulary intervenes, whichever is the sooner.