It's a good thing Portia (the only other guest at the party) doesn't know how use a magic marker, because when you fall asleep at a party where someone does know how to use one you wake up with a dick and lots of insulting remarks crudely drawn on your face. Or so I've heard, as I've never been to a party where that actually happened. So maybe I've officially been an old guy longer than I thought. Yeah, that straw ought to hold my decrepit weight.
Anyway. When I got outside to listen to what was left of the brouhaha, I heard the siren that has been missing the last four years. I think it was seven or eight years ago I first heard this particular police siren on New Year's Eve (there had been another one that sounded like an older model had been set off for the previous three or four years.) As this one been missing for about four years I'm guessing it is owned by either a boomerang kid who has graduated from college but cant find a job and has moved back in with the folks, or somebody who has been in the military for four years and hasn't had leave on New Year's Eve during that time. It was nice to hear it again, though.
Welp, that's that. The best part of 2016 is over, and I'm too groggy from sleeping to write any long, rambling retrospectives about it or any earlier year. I no longer remember any of them clearly without effort, anyway, and as long as I'm behind on my holiday beer consumption I'm going to go drink another bottle of Sierra Nevada and watch more drunks blathering about history. Happy New Year. Or did I say that already?