The unchecked excess and debauchery you displayed in 2010 was impressive, but let’s face it: you’re capable of so much more. On 1/1/11, you’ll make a promise to us. To yourself. That this year, you indulge without limits. Start by reading below. Which automatically enters you into a legally binding agreement.
Okay, so everyone at work knows about your hidden hammock in the break room. No worries. This just may be a blessing in disguise. Now, you’ll take that essential midday nap in a zero-gravity cocoon at this Midtown spa. Start with a 20-minute massage. Then go into a 20-minute catatonic sleep. Rinse. Repeat.
Santa treated you right this Christmas. And now, you’ve got 50 million euros burning a hole in your pocket. So, naturally, you’ll want to commission a Swiss-built yacht via touchscreen at the OC Concept Store. Tap twice if you want the helicopter pad to be heated.
One of these days, you may stop. But as long as there’s still a boozy jazz lounge in the city that’ll sell you a pack of cigarettes with watermarked paper, gold tips and the finest tobacco in the world, that won’t be today.
Four Loko had its moment in the spotlight, but for 2011, your most dangerous drink will certainly be the Dieci. It’s 10 shots of espresso. Poured into one 20-ounce to-go cup. The first 16 to try it were never seen or heard from again.
Turns out, the key to properly spiking a punch bowl: an entire bottle of 21-year-old Jamaican rum. Finish with a squeeze of lime, a dusting of Blue Mountain ground coffee and a fresh allspice dram, and you’re all set. Remember to ladle responsibly. Or with reckless abandon.
You can’t put a price on the perfect sandwich. But you can put a price on one with 50 grams of transmontanus caviar, smoked black cod and delicately sliced salmon. All stuffed between a few slices of blini. It’s $185. Pickle spear not included.
