Based on current calendar readings, it's the new year. Wow, a whole new year. Think of all the implications! Umm, I can only think of 2. One being summer drawing ever nearer, domo arigato mr. roboto!, which means soon I can start walking around shirtless in public again without the threat of my nipples falling off from frostbite. The other being...dun dun dun...new years "resolutions". I actually can't think of any other things a new year entails, other than a whole new slew of the same holidays we just experienced, but now you'll be older, crankier, and more willing to accept any excuse to drink to help you forget about how much your hate your life.
What kind of resolutions you ask?! Well, the top favs are generally along the lines of, but not restricted to:
- Exercise, more of it, because you are a weakling
- Lose Weight/Eat healthier, because you're a fat unhealthy waste
- Save money/Get of debt, because you can't control your financial habits
- More time with friends/family, because for some fucked up reason you want to spend more time with them
- Quit smoking, because you've forgotten or haven't realized how cool smoking makes you
- Volunteer/Help people, because you realize trying to help a lost cause, yourself, is pointless
- Read more books, because you have this fucked up notion that reading equates to intelligence
While resolutions are are well and good, they will change nothing. You will still procrastinate instead of following through on your resolution. You'll think to yourself, "hmm, it's a weekday night and I have nothing I need to do. I should go to the gym." But you and I both know you'll end up either masturbating or watching a shitty movie and eating junk food, maybe even at the same time, because you're too lazy to haul your ass out of the crevasse you've created in the couch with the weight of your constant failure.
All a new year resolution will guarantee is an extra layer of buttercream guilt icing on your already massive chocolate guilt cake. Even more calories to drive you further from your goal of being pretty and accepted. You already make these promises to yourself over and over during the middle of the year. Why more? Why do you continue to struggle? Why do you insist on resisting?! Just eat it. Devour that delicious guilt cake, every last crumb, and stop jerking your intentions around.
I move that we as a society tell every new years resolution to go fuck itself in the ear. Life is too short to fuel beliefs of self-improvement that will only burden our crooked backs as we all crawl along the shattered glass of our shattered hopes and dreams. And I know you don't want any more glass in your knees, that shit fucking hurts.
So this year, I challenge you to resolve to:
- Burn books. Books are for nerds and geeks. And nerds and geeks are used to grease the wheels of the strong.
- Do whatever you can to make life more difficult for other people, because fuck other people. What have other poeple ever done for you?
- Start smoking. James Dean did it, and that guy was the epitomy of motherfuckin' badass.
- Tell your family/friends to fuck off. They're emotions and needs will only slow you down.
- Spend as much money as you can as fast as you can. See if you can go bankrupt at least once a week!
- Eat whatever you want. Put on as much weight as possible. Set a world record for fatest person to ever survive a skydiving accident, because you were too heavy for your parachute but your excessive fat cushioned you, and then you'll be remembered.
- Exercise regularly, because I cannot in good conscious even joke about not exercising. Seriously. The world is a brutal place, and you need to be ready at all times to heave it above your head and drop it on your knee, breaking its back with a sastifying crack (and loosening its bowels).
- Smile. What better way to tell all the troubles that constantly gnaw at your consciousness to fuck off than to engage those facial muscles in a broad, tootshsome grin. It says, "Really, world? Is that all you got? You're going to have to do better than that to shit on my parade!!"
C'mon now, you heard me! Why are you still sitting there?! Tell everyone to fuck off, start smoking, go lift something heavy, beat a sciency nerd into a pulp until they clone a pterodactyl, and then strangle the pterodactyle with your bare hands! Shittin' Fuck Yeah!
And if you can't find a nerd that can produce a pterodactyl for you, even when you take a bunsen burner to his cranium, then ...ionno... go pummel something endangered. A califonia condor is probably a good substitute.