I’m not gonna make any New Year’s resolutions; I really don’t need any. I’m an unattractive, grumpy, difficult person, and it’s taken decades of hard work to become this near-perfect pain in the ass. I’m not going to wreck it all now with some lame attempt at self-improvement. My plan is foolproof; self-delusion is the key to my happiness and my issues are most likely going to be your problem. I need no end of year resolutions; I’m good.
But the rest of you should take this New Year’s resolution stuff very seriously. Let’s be honest, y’all could really use a bit of improvement, couldn’t you? Don’t bother with the usual crap like, “I’m going to lose thirty pounds” or “I will try to become a better person,” or, God forbid, “I’m going to read that book by Faulkner this year.” It ain’t gonna happen. Stick to simple …
Start by: Stop talking on that stupid goddamn cell phone! Is there no place you won’t drone relentlessly into that piece of wired plastic? I have friends who call me from their car simply to fill the time between point A and point B. People, I’m not an entertainment system; please spend your quiet time listening to the voices in your own head for a change. No texting, no Twittering, no sexting, no applying makeup while driving.
Learn to read a map: You’re lost because you are too lazy to read a map. Your GPS inevitably sends you on a wild goose chase and then you call me nine times on your cell phone (while you’re driving! see Resolution #1) to ask for directions. Simply pitiful.
Learn how to negotiate a four-way stop: How difficult is it to stop on a white line and then proceed in the order of arrival to that white line? Jeeezuzz, a freakin’ hamster could be taught that.
Stop raking up leaves and putting them in bags: Why do we do this??? More leaves are coming; does the word “futile” mean anything?
Stop saying “Ignorance is bliss:” Ignorance is not bliss; ignorance is what stupid does. Ignorance ends up as number 5 in the Darwin Awards list.
Stop telling kids “if you go outside without a coat you will catch cold”: No they won’t, they will simply become cold. If they run around outside naked they will be just fine, thank you very much. Now, if they happen to meet up with a virus they will catch a cold. So when they leave the house you might try telling them, “Please avoid all microscopic viruses, bacteria, Catholic priests and serial killers.” That would be useful advice.
Do not park in the handicapped spot unless you are handicapped: The next one of you I see parking in the handicapped zone, jumping out and sprinting to the store because you’re late and forgot the frozen waffles, I’m going to wait by your car and make sure that you at least leave the parking lot handicapped.
Stop buying TV sets that qualify as real estate: The guy living behind me has a set in his living room so damn big that I can watch the game on Sundays while I sit in my back yard and grill … it’s a good 70 yards from me to the set and I can read the player’s numbers . That’s not a TV, that’s a Jumbotron and should be zoned accordingly.
Don’t Bungie Jump: Bungie Jumping is an IQ test, and participation gets a failing grade. The word Bungie is derived from the Sudanese word “Bun” – meaning “wow that is not smart” and “Gie” – meaning “Gee, I think he’s dead”. Bungie jumping is not an activity, it’s a mental condition.
Stop taking cell phone pictures of yourself, your friends and y’all’s body parts: You do realize that when you are passed out, naked, with your head in the toilet and your “friends” photograph you, it’s a very good chance your wife, girlfriend, husband, Mom, Dad and/or boss are going to see your tits, butt and/or crotch Monday morning on the internet. Oh, and you do realize the photos will be there on the internet for the rest of your life, don’t you? What part of “really stupid” don’t you get? Trust me, “really stupid” is a helluva lot more fun when it remains “really private.” Don’t believe me? Google “Brett Favre.”
Don’t attend any drum circles: If you ever want to have a date again you won’t attend a drum circle. Drum circles are incredibly freakin’ lame and they are only attended by seriously lonely, f—ked up dudes.
Let’s stop the hunting charade: Please stop saying “hunting is my way of celebrating my heritage.” Most of us come from a long line of retail clerks, school teachers and used car salesmen. Your “heritage” is more hunting for beer than hunting for bear. If you want to celebrate your heritage, spend your weekends doing what your grandfather and great grandfather actually did all day long, plowing behind a mule if he was a farmer, grading papers if he was a teacher, making horseshoes if he was a blacksmith, sewing the hems on pants if he was a tailor — see, your heritage wasn’t quite as exciting as you thought it was …
Sign a petition: Start with signing a petition banning ice skating and synchronized swimming from both the Olympics and all broadcast television. If the idiots paying for cable still want to watch that crap, well, so be it.
Try to avoid church: Or any religious activity for that matter. It hasn’t helped so far and apparently either the big guy isn’t paying attention, or has a drinking problem and is just f—king with us. I suggest you save your tithe money and figure it all out on your own.
Make your time count now; heaven may be full up.