Type those words into Google and be amazed as nothing comes up….except for some story about how one woman left Munich and spent her NYE by one of the lakes two years ago…
Oh and then there’s that imaginary sad man playing that mandolin sadly in the corner. Sing it Roberto! (I named him Roberto).
Mark, Simon and I have decided not to let the apparent lack of enthusiasm get in the way of our spirits and are relentlessly trying to find ways to either not be here or, if we have to be, then at least find a place with a semi-decent atmosphere.
I’ve also toyed with the idea of getting our own fireworks (which, before you start throwing around wild accusations, are totally legal here).
However as the boys have repeatedly reminded me I’m clumsy so, by a course of unfortunate events later linked to alcohol, I’d probably end up impaling myself onto one of those things. Which means that my parents would end up seeing me on Channel 10 news with a firecracker sparkling out of my arse and Mark holding a giant “hi mum!” sign as an inappropriately-dressed news reporter related the story:
“An Australian woman in her mid (errghmm) twenties has perished after she shot herself into the air. The crowd was both shocked and entertained as fireworks shooting out of her arsehole spelled out “Happy New Year 2011”. Authorities later confirmed that the incident was an unfortunate combination of alcohol and clumsiness.
Tragic isn’t it Stanley, you roguish brute? Let me hear you talk about some balls…”
So I guess it’s no fireworks this year…
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