Day five in my journals of the girl who came all the way from Finland to spend New Year's Eve with me
New Year's Eve!
Written by: Alex Sandell

December 31st, 1997. Day number five.
5:27 PM: After trying to stay in bed as long as possible, so as to avoid doing annoying things, like be a good host, I finally get up.

5:30 PM: Walk out into the kitchen, Tanja is still sleeping soundly on the couch. Maybe she doesn't want to have to do annoying things, like being "hosted." Due to her sleeping-status, I let out a big fart, assuming that it won't be heard. She starts laughing, and claims it was "the ugliest thing" she's ever listened to. Those foreigners have a way with words.

5:37 PM: Have spent the last 7 minutes walking around, drinking chocolate-milk directly out of the container, scratching my balls, and farting repeatedly. Now that she knows I'm not a "fartless"-human, what do I have to lose? This is gonna be the best New Year's Eve, ever!

6:03 PM: Throughout grotesque sounds, and rancid aromas, we discuss what we should do for New Year's Eve. I call around, to see what my friends are doing, and they're all heading out to various parties that take place in bars. Being that Tanja is only 18, and can't get into any clubs, it's looking more and more like we're stuck with non-alcoholic beer, the playstation, and my awe-inspiring supply of natural gas.

7:03 PM: I find out Conan O' Brien is doing a live countdown to New Year's Eve for the CENTRAL timezone! Our problem is solved! Who would want to miss that? I mean, it's LIVE, those stupid clubs are just, well, a lot of fun, but Conan is LIVE!

8:14 PM: We hear other people partying. We sit on the couch. This is pretty depressing.

8:17 PM: I try to squeeze out a really loud fart, to liven things up, but even embarrassing gastronomical functions can't help anymore.

9:19 PM: Neither of us have much to say. I pop open my first can of "Sharp's," the "non-alcoholic beer that tastes like it'll get you drunk!" Tanja "hates" beer, and wants Vodka. What's up with all these Scandinavian chicks and hard liquor?

10:14 PM: I have searched every cabinet, and have no vodka. I decide to mix spring water and tobasco sauce, and see if I can pass it off as booze. Tanja takes one sip and decides that, "if this is America's idea of Vodka, I'll stick with chocolate milk."

10:57 PM: I fart.

11:17 PM: Will this night ever be over?

11:43 PM: My friend Dave calls me and tells me to "get my ass down to the club." It's the best time he's had in years! I remind him that Conan's on live.

12:00 AM, 1998!: Conan counted it down live, and now a whole bunch of idiots are running around in cheap looking costumes. Tanja yawns. I could use some Vodka right about now.

12:15 AM: Tanja asks, "don't you think I'm pretty?" Her English is kinda iffy, so it comes out something like "pretty don't you think, am I?" I realize I haven't really thought about it much, because that kind of thing takes too much effort, so I look her up and down, and realize she isn't too bad, except for her kind of wide butt.

12:16 AM: I make a mental-note to myself to write an update for "The Juicy Cerebellum" on girls and their wide butts. Why do girls always get big asses? I'm thinking it's kind of like how they get boobs at 13, their buttocks just naturally expand at around 18-23. That's weird. I hope I don't get a big butt. It seems like it would be hard to wipe.

12:17 AM: Tanja starts looking self-conscious. I tell her I like her. She asks me if I would "touch her," and then pulls down her shirt, to reveal a quivering boob. Mmm . . . quiiiiiivering boooooooob. I massage it for a while, and (please note the rest of this may or may not be reality, possibly altered for your viewing pleasure) decide to grab one of those special, "New Year's Eve" condoms I bought, that are "ribbed, for her pleasure."

12:25 AM: "Ribbed for her pleasure," my ass. "Ribbed for his annoyance," would be better. I keep trying to put the damn, nubby thing on.

(Approximately) 3:58 AM: The condom is finally in place, and I have gone . . . limp. Tanja is sleeping. The night is over. HAPPY NEW YEAR!

The end.

1998 Alex Sandell [all rights reserved]. That's just how it is. If you want to know if Tanja and I really had sex during our time together, please send $17.99 to the "I-don't-kiss-and-tell" fund. Thank you.

Back to the table of brains 1998

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