Decade's End Party: New Year's Eve at Saints & Sinners. FUCK THE CALENDAR, WE'RE OUT

2009 WAS WEIRD. A vaguely black guy became president. I turned 30. Michael Jackson croaked. I got a steady girlfriend. The world economy collapsed. I became an extremely minor Youtube celebrity. My friend Pudge got stabbed while deejaying. Saints & Sinners management opened a bar a block away from... Saints & Sinners. Sum and a bunch of my friends dubbed themselves The Milky Way and started running around town in wigs and facepaint. And my parents are flirting with each other after 15 years of divorce. Mama said there'd be days like this. I just didn't expect her to be sitting on my father's lap when they came.

I don't want to get too deep into my feelings on the decade. It's gonna be a few more years before we get enough distance from it to really understand what a satchel of turd it was. But for now, consider:

• N'Sync broke an album sales record that many say will probably never be topped.
• And the buck-toothed guy from Mad Magazine stole the presidency for eight years.

For now, that's all I got. And really, that's all I need.

Gregorian calendar rules dictate that decades begin on the 1, not the 0. Fuck a Gregory. That's a gay ass name and this was a ridiculous ten years. The new decade begins Thursday night at Saints & Sinners. Entry is free. Midnight champagne is free. I'm on the tables all night. Everyone who shows up to Saints that night will spend 2010 basking in the radiance of a new beginning. Everyone who doesn't will have condemned themselves to another 365 days under the shitcloud listening to Kelly Clarkson and trying to figure out in what part of town you're least likely to get the shit smacked out of you for wearing a kufi (hint: stay north of Hyperion). See you next decade, bitches. Well, 126 of you anyway. Don't need the fire department coming up in the bar. Especially with the fireballs and all.