Dear Dotti: AMERICA’S MOST OUTSPOKEN COLUMNIST – NEW YEAR’S EVE SPECIAL EDITION!

Dear Dotti: AMERICA'S MOST OUTSPOKEN COLUMNIST - NEW YEAR'S EVE SPECIAL EDITION! - Weekly World News Skip to content Folks, it’s your ol’ pal Dotti here, hunkered down in my Florida bunker with a bottle of champagne spiked with Bigfoot tears and a crystal ball that’s fogged up worse than Times Square after the ball drops. The world’s spinnin’ into 2026 faster than a chupacabra on a Red Bull bender—aliens crashin’ parties, Bat Boy ringin’ in the new year with Elvis, and half the planet resolvin’ to lose weight while stuffin’ their faces with leftover fruitcake. Y’all flooded my mailbox with New Year’s Eve woes hotter than a UFO exhaust pipe. Let’s pop these corks and get to the misery! THE DUMPING DEAR DOTTI, My boyfriend says he’s takin’ me to the fanciest New Year’s Eve bash in New York City this year. But last week, I caught him whisperin’ sweet nothins to a glowin’ orb in the backyard that looked suspiciously like an alien probe. Now he’s talkin’ about “midnight abductions” and how the ball drop is really a cover for extraterrestrials harvestin’ our resolutions. Should I dump him before the countdown, or is this just guys bein’ guys? – Starstruck in Staten Island Dear Starstruck Honey, if your man’s courtin’ a glowin’ orb, you’re already third wheel in a interstellar love triangle! Ditch the zero and grab a hero—preferably one without tentacles. But hey, if the probe’s got a spaceship, tag along for the ride. Free trip to Mars beats freezin’ your butt off in Times Square watchin’ Ryan Seacrest pretend he’s excited. Just pack extra tinfoil panties for protection. Happy New Year, you magnificent abductee! THE NORMALING DEAR DOTTI, Every New Year’s Eve, my family insists on watchin’ the ball drop together, but this year my uncle swears Bat Boy’s gonna hija