Auld Lang Syne Gets Face Lift And Tummy Tuck Under BoUNCe's Scalpel
By Paul Preston

Auld Lang Syne Should old acquaintance be forgot And never brought to mind Spring semester, you'll be forgot Unless that ass is fine We knocked the dirty boots, baby The six and then the nine I didn't plan on calling thee But damn that ass was fine Though winter yet bites cold my dear This may be out of line; You know, I have your phone number Are you still keeping mine? I've already turned blue, my dove, So please don't be unkind My resolution is that you Once again become mine

With New Year's coming up, I'm sure that most of you with nothing better to do have been wondering about appropriate plans for celebration of this momentous occasion that we keep doing every year for some reason. If you're anything like us here at BoUNCe, then your New Years Eve celebration involves large amounts of fireworks, Vicodin, and any small woodland creatures that you can find. That and the time honored tradition of drinking champagne until you find Dick Clark attractive. But I digress.

Naturally, no New Year's Eve celebration can be complete without three major ingredients: stupid shiny hats, something alcoholic, and the singing of Auld Lang Syne come New Year's minute.

Auld Lang Syne is based on an old Scottish hymn/drinking song/funeral dirge/calypso. It was brought to the United States in 1817 by one of the quirky old sheep farmers in a plaid skirt and funny hat for which Scotland is so renowned. When he arrived in the States on December 31st, he couldn't stop singing the dear song, partly due to homesickness and partly due to advanced autism. Either way, the lyrics eventually seemed inspirational to the oversexed and sleep-deprived revelers on that chilly New England eve. The crowd joined in, combining in raucous and mostly incoherent screeching until even the most dedicated wallflower pussy could not help but get caught up in the fervor. The heat built to such a pitch that the crowd could no longer contain itself. Strangers began making out and fondling at what happened to be the stroke of midnight, still singing, beginning yet another popular New Year's tradition.

Most of us spend our time too sober to know what those old Scottish lyrics mean- probably they want to golf some haggis but she can't take it any more, cap'n- so, for convenience sake, here's a new and improved take on a great classic, technically destroying what makes it a classic.