No Year’s Resolutions

It’s OK to admit it. Chances are you’re not alone. Besides, that security videotape of you trying to negotiate a volume discount at SuperAmerica for the entire Hostess display, two Coors party packs, and several cartons of cigarettes provides compelling evidence that you’ve already broken just about all your New Year’s resolutions.

But it’s not your fault. With the possible exception of my vowing to join an Amish community (“Are you people out of your minds—nothing battery-operated, either?”), what could be more destined for failure than this annual resolutions ritual?

For starters, let’s consider your probable state of mind come December 31. Over the previous 10 days, you’ve consumed roughly 57 pounds of Russell Stover’s peppermint bark, and have been rejected by every weight-loss clinic in town under their “Yeah, right—Blagojevich has a better chance of getting reelected” clause.

The bank, after asking, “Which word—insufficient or funds—don’t you understand?” demands you return the free calendar. And you’re still haunted by vague memories of the office Christmas party. Something about you, the fax machine, and a dare to prove that lingerie can be transmitted over telephone lines.

Now, it’s New Year’s Eve. You’re watching Dick Clark’s annual Times Square bash, and, suddenly, you have absolutely no idea what decade it even is, because you’ve seen this exact same show every year since 1962. Then, some soused revelers start singing “Auld Lang Syne.” You know, that zippy tune that makes Beck’s “Losers” sound downright inspirational.

At this precise moment, men and women across America have the same revelation: Life sucks—I am the human equivalent of a lava lamp. And, damn it, we’re out of Buffalo wings. (Well, that was the revelation I had, anyway.)

Be that as it may, I think we can all agree this whole New Year’s resolution process needs a complete overhaul.

First off, December is clearly the absolute worst month in which to assess your life. So, we must find a time of year that’s more conducive to making resolutions that will outlast the average celebrity marriage.

January definitely is out. Like anyone can be expected to quit gambling, chugging beer, or calling for divine intervention during critical fourth-down situations during Super Bowl Month.

Valentine’s Day comes in February, so people will already be under enough pressure trying to convince their significant others that a home liposuction kit is a gift that says: “I love you just the way you are.”

Forget March. No one’s going to be thinking clearly after St. Patrick’s Day.

And April, particularly the 15th, is arguably the most ill-advised time to go on some honesty kick.

May has Mother’s Day, so by midmonth, we will already have met our guilt quota.

And with Father’s Day in June, our brains will be dangerously close to exploding, having given at least a minute of thought to Dad’s gift before going with the soap-on-a-rope/cheap-cologne combo.

Besides, June is Pride Month for Chrissakes!

In July, just about everyone’s on summer vacation.

And, by August, most of us are focused on one very important question: Do we go for one more State Fair corn dog? Or do we go wild, and spend $6 on bacon dipped in chocolate?

By September, there’s always some political race happening, and as you all know, politicians make enough empty promises for all of us.

Needless to say, all of October will be devoted to searching the globe for this year’s trendy Halloween costume.

November, of course, is out of the question. All those Thanksgiving preparations. Cleaning. Cooking. Making sure that the restraining order against all your exes is still enforceable.

There you have it. Near scientific proof that there’s simply no good time to make New Year’s resolutions. So, tear up that gym membership. Have another piece of pizza, and don’t even consider working any harder.


Consider the source here, but I’m feeling better about myself already.

Bye for now.
Kiss, kiss.

Have a Happy New Year ’09!

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