January 2, 2008

New Year's Resolutions 2008. Seriously.

I've noticed a few of my fellow bloggers posting their resolutions for 2008. They take two basic approaches to this:
  1. I know that I will probably fail because I always have every single other time I've made this resolution, but I'm going to give it one more good try, again, and maybe this time I won't be such a pathetic worthless loser who can't keep their resolutions for longer than a day or two, and that one time I went a whole week.
  2. Fuck resolutions. They all suck and it's a pretentious thing to do. So here's my fucking resolution, fucktards.

I don't often make resolutions at New Years, any more than I wait until Sunday to speak with My Creator. I feel free to speak my piece with Him at will, and I make resolutions as I trip and fall in my daily life.

Taken in context, in this manner, you actually stand a chance of following through with your resolutions:

The morning after an opening night were the open bar lasted a few extra rounds, I might utter something along the lines of; "uuurrrrrrrrr.... I resolve never to do belly shots with English chorus girls." I've taken that a step further: NEVER try to match an Englishman drink per drink; they don't have livers. They can out-drink the Irish, I swear to god.

Testing an open 220 line with a screwdriver to see if it's live: "WHAP! Huh. I won't do THAT again!"

Checking spark plug wires while the motors running: "ZZZZZAAAPPPPP! FUCK!! Sonofa BITCH! Ga....da..... I won't do THAT again!"

Trying to load in the set piece that I let an assistant measure for me three times because I was worried about, but didn't measure myself: "GAHdammit. Never. Fucking. Again. GAHdammit." (See how I also used this occasion to address my Creator? "Waste not, want not.")

But this year, I'm a little unhinged, so I'm going to make a couple of official New Year's Resolutions. Just to break things up. I feel a need to blow out some cobwebs, and make some changes in my life. Maybe it will balance my karma, or cleanse my dao, or something.

  • I will no longer eat grapes for "good luck" in the New Year. I did it the last three years, and each year I've had noticeably WORSE years. I'm a WASP, and I will stick to WASP traditions of blessings and good fortune from here on out. That means champagne* from California and CheezWhiz. It was good enough for grandpa, it's good enough for me.
  • I resolve to stop downloading internet porn just as soon as I finish this last Limewire session.**
  • I resolve to ride my bicycle or use mass transit to do my grocery shopping, except in cases of extreme weather or some other emergency.
  • I resolve to change my guitar strings at least once a quarter, whether I believe they need it or not.
  • I resolve to buy every single one of my friends a bottle of their preferred distilled beverage before the end of this year. Except Tom, who's getting books and t-shirts, too.
  • I resolve to stop audibly muttering "flush that money away, loser; cha-ching!" every time I pass by someone putting a case of bottled water in their shopping cart.
  • I resolve to stop harrassing Jorge at Whole Foods about his irredeemable lack of concern about the health and welfare of people suffering from celiac disease and wheat allergies while I'm in the store.***

I have to say, I feel better about life and everything already. And see? These were all honest, heartfelt, and needful resolutions. The world will be a better place if I keep them, and my soul will be closer to karmic harmony.


* Don't bother commenting that "champagne is only from the Champagne region of France, everything else is sparkling wine." A blight destroyed all roots of all the French grapevines, so everything was grafted onto roots from NEW JERSEY in the early nineteenth century. So it's all US grappa as far as I'm concerned, so shut up and pass the Renault, Pierre.
** You're right, I didn't resolve to stop WATCHING internet porn. Or any other kind of porn. Wanna make something of it?
*** I will, however, continue to blog about it, and send emails to WFM corporate headquarters. I guess I'm doomed to be an asshole about some things.


  1. My bass guitar strings are so old they remember disco. Which I never played. The Rickenbacker has nylon strings, which I can't even find anymore. Good luck changing every quarter -- or did you mean quarter century?

  2. Those strings were good enough for my grandfather.... ;-)