I recently hosted a small New Year’s Eve gathering at the Drunken Huntsman in Whiterun.  My invitation list was ambitious beyond my status in the gaming industry (I’m a 38 year-old, bald guy who is known only by the local Gamestop clerks as “that guy who buys everything”).  

Booze was first on the agenda as it should be at New Year’s parties, luncheons, dental visits, and little league games.  Firmly believing that I would be drinking alone (cue Thurgood), I reserved three bottles of Black-Briar Reserve.    Then I waited, awkwardly sipping from my glass as my reserved room included exactly one person – me.  In what can be only termed as “Festivus Miracle,” people began to trickle in – fashionably late is an industry standard evidently.  By midnight we were having ourselves quite a humdinger.

We sloshed our way through the Black-Briar Reserve in double-time (Sonic can belt it back, I tells ya’) and we began our descent into the gutters led by  a dear and faithful friend – Nord Mead.   Tankards clanked, spirits rose, and lips got loose – tales of great adventure and colossal failures spewed forth. Sonic spewed in a bucket at around 3:00 AM with Tim Turi faithfully holding his head; the heartbreak in Tim’s eyes whispered the desperate tale of his friend’s longtime struggle.

As our evening of debauchery came to a close, the topic turned to New Year’s Resolutions.   While Nintendo strong-armed me into signing a “no-release” clause concerning Miyamoto’s ramblings, I am pleased to bring you the following resolutions put forth by some in attendance:

My Dark Souls Character – “Dude, fudge this – I am moving to Skryim where I can live for more than 30 seconds at a clip.”

Guy Behind the Follow Guy – “I am so stabbing that bastard between the C3 and C4 vertebrae the first chance I get!  I can find the way to the glowing arrow by myself!”

Luigi – “Become a made man (I’m Sicilian, you know), then let Mario meet my happy little friend – dull icepick. 

Follow Guy – “Goal – 300 lunges a day – gotta keep a firm backside with all these eyes on me.”

Sonic – “Slow down – the average hedgehog lives four to seven years.  I’m freakin’ 20.  Also, stop excessive boozing and womanizing. 

PeterMolyneux  – “Keep a promise, any single damn promise that comes outta my lie-filled word-hole.”

Skyrim Dragon – “Learn to turn sideways and eviscerate and/or gut that little bastard whacking at my wing.”

Overheard at the Skylander’s Table – “Continue to sadistically manipulate small children (they noticed me eavesdropping at this point)… err, continue to create a magical world for children to play and learn about friendship, loyalty, and overcoming obstacles.”  (I will note, Trigger Happy was out cold, drooling on the table at this point, so you can disassociate him from these comments).

Dan Ryckert – “To continue being padawan to Joe Juba’s master.”

Duke Nukem – “Balls jokes, balls jokes, and mo’ balls jokes!”

Blank GI Cover – “Disembowel the next **%^$# that wants me graced with Half-Life 3… I can only be me! 

I was proud of my shindig.  All those attendance had a great time, and as a lifelong gamer I was thrilled to meet them.  Unfortunately, I did hear on Sonic’s way home he upchucked on Adrianne Avenicci’s bountiful bosom.  In fairness, he did offer to “wash them right up,” but wound up getting wrecked by Ulfberth War-Bear as Turi leered from behind a barrel. 

I know many other fine member of the GI community were in attendance that evening.  I’m sure I missed some brilliance of those in attendance due to my Skooma-induced ADD.  Please leave your reflections on this fine evening below.  Cheers!