New Year's Party Tips for the Moderation Challenged

Once your pantyhose have a big “Easy Access” hole in the upper thigh, just take ‘em off already. You’re not fooling anyone there, classy-chick.
The president of your company does NOT want to know how YOU think things are REALLY going. Cause you know what? If anyone really cared, YOU would be president. So just move along, smarty-pants.
Eat any and all cheese products you are offered throughout the evening. It works. I don’t know why, but it does. I choose not to look that particular gift horse in the mouth. Just stick to the cheese and be grateful.
Arrive at the party assuming you are going to be put in a cab and sent home. Translation: know your address, or at least have it written down somewhere. And for god’s sake, hang on to some cab fare.
Nothing says class like a woman double fisting Bud from the bottle. (Use a glass, just this once.)
If your party is open bar all evening long, you’ve hit BONANZA. Pace yourself, or you’ll be bummed in the morning when you realize you were sent home in time to watch Jeopardy.
If your party is open bar only for an hour, offer to help “organize” so you can get there early and hoard alcohol for yourself and your friends.
If your party is cash bar only, consider quitting now. It’s only December 31st – you can get a new job at a company that will at least pick up the friggin’ bar tab for an hour. Jeez – it’s New Years. Tight-asses!
Stay a drink or two behind anyone you really don’t like. Think of the hours and hours of fun and excitement you will have talking about what a drunken fool they were at the party the next day! (Oh…sure, I had 10 beers, but you’d think SHE’D at least slow down after number 11… duh?!?)
If you’ve fallen down more than once, and you still want to keep your job, thanks for playing, we have some nice parting gifts for you. Bye bye. Check yourself out before someone has to check you in to the emergency room. (Note: Stumbling is perfectly legal.)
Your body, especially your hands, do not belong anywhere within 6 inches of your boss’s body. Not for any reason, period. If you find your hands in need of something to do, get another drink for crying out loud. Or wait till you get home, Spanky.
Just because you can’t see others while you’re hooking up with your intern on the dance floor doesn’t mean others can’t see YOU.