New Year's Eve has always been a very special time for me. I've spent it in a heap of different places. I've spent it with the girls in prison waiting trial for slicing off my future husband Roscoe's you-know-what. I've spent it in car back seats and five-star suites. I've even spent it glooped up in a giant tub of Jell-O in a hotel in Mississippi one time as part of an advert promo. It took days to wash the stain out, but the cash made for a fine start to the new year, I can tell you that much. But maybe my most special one of them all was the night I lost gave up my virginity to a boy back in Fryup for a bag of kola kubes. I suppose you could say it's the night that set me off to where I am today. If I had a pound for every made-up story about where and when I lost my virginity, I'd have more than I got for lounging in that tub of Jell-O, I can tell you that much. Well, here's the truth. It was with a boy named Kirk. He was two years older. He'd been after it for ages and I wouldn't give it up. Things changed that night when I spotted a bag of kola kubes in his pocket. Me having such a sweet tooth and all, I was up for swapsies before he could even pull the bag out. We finished on the stroke of midnight. It didn't hurt as much as I'd thought. He sweet-breathed 'Happy new year' in my ear. I clanked his kola kubes round the backs of my buck-teeth.
Happy New Year!
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