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That’s right — go forth, all ye merry hoodrats, scoundrels, and assorted scalawags, for this is your night. During the waking hours of the other 364 days of the year, you rightfully earn the title “goon” for your various antics, illegal and otherwise. But tonight, you are the champions. When all of the less experienced, half-stepping drinkers, tokers, and dosers that come out of the woodwork for New Year’s festivities are throwing up an hour after midnight, you’ll … well there’s a good chance you’ll be throwing up as well.

But the point is, for once, you’ll be in good company. In America, New Year’s Eve, much like Halloween, serves as an excuse for literally everyone (even the typically demure) to unleash their chained-up inner retard. Even if the urban bourgeois would normally resent your presence roaming the streets of “their” trendy neighborhoods, tonight they’ll probably be too drunk to notice you darkening their favorite bar’s doorstep with pot smoke.