In 10 days from now, people all over the world will be starting the arduous process of trying to keep any resolutions they have promised to keep only hours earlier. Some will succeed. Most will fail. And if they are like me: they will fail miserably. So miserably in fact, that the aforementioned resolution making process ended for me nearly 2 decades ago when I decided, declared, or just found out because I’m too lazy, always looking for other things to do, or just enjoy being a shit disturber in general, that resolutions and I are not made for one another. In fact, in the grand scheme of things, resolutions and I are that naughty one-night stand where you let her do things to you that you’re not proud of but want to tell your friends about anyway because they’ll simultaneously shake their head while telling you to go the nearest clinic and offer you a fist bump for your experience! Or maybe that’s just my friends?
As you have guessed after reading that long-winded opening paragraph, I will not be making any resolutions this year. I’m more of a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants kind of guy so making resolutions, however tiny and insignificant, defeats my attitude towards life in general. Or I already know I’ll not achieve them so why bother? Seriously. Most times I didn’t even make it until the end of January before I hung my head in shame. There were only so many times I could say “No” to a meaningless fling before I thought it was rude to let some lonely girl go home alone. I’m a people person, after all.
I’m not a smoker, don’t need to go on a diet, or don’t have any long-lost family members I need to get in contact with. I suppose I could say I plan to start smoking this year! I mean, I was once asked if I smoked after sex, and I replied, “No, but I do get very sweaty.” This went straight over her head, which isn’t surprising as she was crawling back under the covers. I could say I’m going to gain to weight, but since I’ve joined a gym already, that seems rather pointless. And I didn’t join a gym to bulk up to the size of an asteroid either. I just need to get my endurance and flexibility back. If I can tone down my stomach as well I’d be happy with that. So, I won’t be wishing for weight gain either. If anything, I could do with getting rid of a few relatives and old friends from my social media calendar. That sounds awful doesn’t it? Like getting kicked in the junk by the Hulk wearing pointy-ass stilettos! Now there’s an image for you!
If I was a man who enjoyed making plans and setting targets, I would possibly say that this year is the year I learn to wrap presents that don’t look like Stevie Wonder wrapped them while riding a roller coaster. But then I think that’s what gift bags and tissue paper were invented for. Wrapping will become a thing of the past like the 8-track tape, the cassette tape, David Spade’s acting career, and proper English in everyday use. TBH, I would hate for proper English to go the way of the dodo, the mastodon, my virginity that glorious night in the back of the apple cart with the moon high, a cool breeze to titillate, and cousin Yuri’s best friend’s sister who was also the number 3 prostitute in all of FiftydollarsandI’llrockyourworldandprobablynotinfectyousomediseasestan. I’m sure U R all feeling the same 2!
If I had nous, the wherewithal, or even the tiniest hint of purpose I might say this is the year I invent the mistletoe belt! Hours of fun at your next office Christmas party ladies and gentlemen. And don’t let traditional values stop you from seeing the beauty of this. Sure, it says when two people are under the mistletoe that they shall kiss. Wouldn’t that mean the belt only works if you employ nothing but midgets (or little people if you want to be politically correct)? Rules are meant to be broken (hence why I never keep resolutions – too much like rules). If I hire a tech-savvy guy I can have him make a sonic device that emits a signal that forces people to fall to their knees within a 10 foot radius of you. As you approach them, or they crawl towards you – PRESTO – already at belt height! No need for awkwardness or watching as the girl in the skin-tight dress tries to bend down gracefully. And surely this is less embarrassing than Susan coming in to the office the next work day and finding her photocopied ass hanging in every cubicle and on the first and last slide of the weekly meeting? Again, an idea for the people. But then I realize that Christmas only comes once a year and people might not want to pay for such a novelty item when it might be easier, given Susan’s attitude to photocopying her bare ass, to just ply her with eggnog and ask her to show you where she keeps the large manila envelopes as you have a big and urgent delivery to attend to!
So no resolutions for me again this year. I’ll just keep on being me. The good, the bad, the insanely gorgeous, and sometimes the nearly ugly. I will write. I will procrastinate. I will travel and take photos. I will procrastinate some more. I will infuriate, I will bring laughter, and maybe even some clarity. I will read. I will put off reading to watch reruns or my favorite shows and movies. I will snuggle my cats. I might even improve my golf game. And most importantly, I will still continue to call you friends, my talented and far too kind to me readership, and I will be lucky to do so. Yeah, that’s what I’m willing to promise this year.