03

I’m not a big fan of New Year’s Eve, or most holidays in general, as you’ve probably come to realize. This particular holiday is on an even keel with the Fourth of July, in terms of an excuse for aging “adults” to get insanely shitfaced and stupid in the name of “celebration”, though Independence Day at least has some actual significance aside from the last number in a date changing.

I don’t understand why people need a “jumping off” point, if you will, of the New Year to change their ways, or start anew, as any given day can afford this possibility. I also tend to think the “New Year’s resolution” is just a way to buy more time to what will likely end up being another failure of commitment, a mere few weeks after it arrives as well.

Had I waited for the calendar to flip each time I quit something detrimental to myself, or make changes that made me less of an overall asshole, I’d surely be dead by now and would’ve ended up so as an even bigger prick than I currently am, believe it or not.

The previous three paragraphs notwithstanding, I’m obviously now going to give you my “resolution column”, as everybody is doing it and it’s a simple writer’s “go-to” at this point of the year. I mean, c’mon, I’ve had damned near a week’s break from this shit, I couldn’t possibly come up with something original.

For the sake of organization and simplicity (for you dumbasses out there), I’ve broken them down by month. Please follow my bouncing balls:


January: Start a petition requiring ANYBODY who observes Martin Luther King Day to actually be fucking aware of his legacy and dreams, while ALSO living in a way to promote those dreams…in lieu of just using it for a 3-day weekend.

February: Avoid the puke and shit-bath of the amateur hour referred to as “Mardi Gras” like the fucking plague, and find out if this is a leap year or not before the 27th-day of the month.

March: Turn 42…AND request anal as a birthday gift by spelling it out with Solo cups in the fencing of an Interstate-55 pedestrian bridge.

April: Return to the gym, now that the New Year’s crowd has dissipated, having realized “lard-ass” is simply much easier to maintain, while expressing my gratitude for their membership fees keeping the doors open.

May: Begin using crack cocaine.

June: Vow to family and loved ones that I will quit using crack cocaine – as next year’s resolution…AND request anal as a Father’s Day gift by spelling it out with Solo cups in the fencing of an Interstate-55 pedestrian bridge.

July: I resolve to have this body…this glorious body…summer ready for you bitch’s pleasure, yo!

August: Clean up bottle rocket sticks and fireworks garbage from my lawn for the next month while bitching loudly and incessantly about the Fourth of July.

September: Track down and beat the ever living shit out of Dane Cook, pointing out to him that his cries for help are what REAL humor sounds like.

October: Pen a column about those nut-jobs who get married on Halloween, and pledge to use “fuck” less in my writing.

November
:
Eat myself out of any achievements I’ve made at the gym in the last 7-months, and pledge to use “fuck” more in my writing.

December: Celebrate the birth of one Jesus Harold Christ by perpetuating tales of fat men in chimneys to the innocent youth and proving who can outspend each other in the family to the point of foreclosure…AND request anal as a Christmas gift by spelling it out with Solo cups in the fencing of an Interstate-55 pedestrian bridge …OF COURSE!

Happy New Year, fuckers…KMFP-out!

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