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Champagne in your mouth > some weirdo’s tongue.
So, the moment has come that we’ve all been waiting for: the end of 2016.
This year took Prince, Muhammad Ali, Florence Henderson, David Bowie, Alan Rickman, Sharon Jones, Leonard Cohen, Phife Dawg, and facts, among other things.
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“Good riddance,” you may be thinking, “It truly has been a literal dumpster fire of a year!”
But before you trek in your sparkly dress and practical, look-ruining snow boots to your New Year's party of choice, I implore you to reexamine the tradition of midnight makeouts.
HBO
You don’t have to kiss anyone on New Year’s Eve. Seriously, don’t just kiss any fellow partygoer to kiss somebody.
The pressure to play tonsil hockey alongside cute couples at midnight on January 1 is real; I'll give you that. If you don't want to start 2017 with a reminder of how single you are, I really, truly feel you.
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But think of it this way: Do you want to celebrate the new year by tonguing the food membrane of your friend’s cousin, who wears a Monster energy drink hat and responds to nearly everything with “That’s what she said”?
Does that seem preferable to an acknowledgement that you, single you, just made it through one of the worst years in memory by 👏 your 👏 damn 👏 self 👏 ? That shit is an accomplishment, not a failure. Be proud! You have Xena, Warrior Princessed the fuck out of 2016.
Paramount Pictures
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