Happy New Year, my little mad cows!
Did you know I was supposed to be a New Year's baby. It's true. But I didn't want to come out. I firmly placed my unborn baby feet on either side of my mother's uterus and refused to budge unless certain demands were met. I won't get into those demands here other than to say they involved magic powers, fat crayons, a pony, and an outfit similar to the one Rainbow Brite wore and if anyone ever promises you a pony to do something, I'm sorry, but THEY'RE LYING.
Unfortunately, I think my reluctance to come out into this god forsaken world was quite possibly the last sensible, quasi-intelligent thing I did.
My New Year's Resolutions, In Case You Care:
1. Build my character. Because apparently, if you listen to my parents, which I try not to, but occasionally a word or two does sneak through, I am in desperate need of character building. Things that build character: Developing an eating disorder/drug addiction/gambling problem/learning disability/origami fetish, or living on a mountain top in the wilderness for a month with nothing but a human-sized bottle of chocolate Filliers, a pair of toe-nail clippers, and Dr. Phil's Life Strategies Workbook. Guess which one I'm going to aim for! Although there is a plan B of course. I can always resort to stealing an innocent person's identity by going through her trash and hacking into her computer and then apply for a job at Amazon.com using this person's name and social security number. The way I figure, once I'm in the door I can set forth Operation Burn Amazon To The Ground (a.k.a. new year's resolution no. 2) in motion. In theory, the woman whose identity I stole will rot in jail for life and I will live happily ever after with the goddamn DVD I ordered in September. In theory.
3. Bury the hatchet with Renee Zellweger's bastard son. Bury it IN HIS (8 POUND) HEAD! I can probably do it when he least expects it, too, like when he's on the set of his new movie, Stuart Little 5, or maybe it's Stuart Little 6, who can really keep up, in which Stuart the mouse realizes he's being discriminated against and in a fit of rage kills all the humans. And then after he dies, he'll be to Stuart Little 5 what Brandon Lee was to The Crow. And I'll be free. Free from his pleas of going to the zoo and free from his incessant chatter about the weight of the human head. Free!
There, now there is nothing left for me to do except wait for the New Year's Fairy to come and bestow upon me her Magic New Year's Fairy Dust and enough alcohol to make me think the Old Year was really just a bad acid trip, even though I'm pretty sure the only kind of acid I do is of the citric variety. Pretty sure. But you know what they say. That citric acid will get you every time. Well. I'm sure someone has said that. At some time or another. Whatever.
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I think that your New Year's resolutions sound about as realistic as anyone else's (noting of course, that people usually set goals for themselves that are nearly impossible to acheive without some of that New Year's Fairy Dust you speak of). So good luck in all that especially the Apple employee. Dirty monkey sex is always great (assuming this Apple employee is real and willing to join you without you having to tie him up and lock him away in your closet with the mailman).
Oh, and I sure as hell hope this past year was a bad acid trip! maybe we will wake up and figure out that we had one hell of a flashback! =)
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