Tis the season to get drunk off of your parent's alcohol and put ex-lax in your smug brother's food and then "accidentally" lock all the bathrooms so you can take video of him shitting in the yard and blow up your Twitter with raw footage. This is also the time when people make their New Year's resolutions; knowing full well that you'll start the New Year rolling yourself out from under a hairy man's body and trying to sneak out of his dorm room (fuuuuck not again, I swear he was 30!) with enough clothing to avoid an indecent exposure charge. Yet we continue to make these ridiculous resolutions because Cosmo tells us to...I don't know why it's so god damn hard to say no to those whores.
I've decided that I will make a few resolutions this year. But first I'll explain why yours are fucking stupid.
Resolution 1: I will be a better employee, friend, ex-girlfriend, dog-owner, etc.
This resolution is probably why the suicide rate is so high near the holidays. First of all, I'll consider becoming a better employee when I make as much money as I deserve. In my opinion I'm worth $80,000 a year. Since I'm pretty positive that will never happen, I will continue to not give a fuck about my job and call my students cunts when they have a rage blackout on the phone. Give me a raise and I can afford enough Botox to keep my face in a permanent smile and enough meds to project faux happiness. As a friend, ex-girlfriend, dog-owner, etc. I'm fucking flawless. I ensure I take enough happy pills to last the whole time we're hanging out so I don't have an emotion to ruin the night and I always have alcohol in my home...always. I don't even need to explain my obsession with my dog. That bastard eats better than I do and has more accessories than Suri Cruise. Yeah Suri, I said it. But feel free to decide you want to be a better friend to me. I'll take appreciation in the forms of cash, pills, booze and maybe a leg hump or two if you're on my bucket list.
Resolution 2: Lose 5-185 lbs.
So most of us can stand to lose a few pound. I'm looking at you Mary Kate. I know you ate a cracker yesterday, I can smell it on your breath you quitter. However it's the moment that you decide that you will go on a diet that you suddenly have the urge to consume an entire bag of Flamin Hot Lays and see how many Big Macs can fit in your stomach. You also start to wonder if those dog cookies are really that good. I mean you should probably taste what your pets eat right? Don't moms test food before they feed it to their babies? Uh, where was I? Oh right, diets. Instead of making a resolution to follow the Lohan diet and filling my fridge with sugar-free Red Bull and cocaine, I'll just decide that I'm too poor to eat at McDonalds. This could also be a true fact but I guess you'll never know. Just keep in mind that any change left in my couch is mine you son of a bitches.
Resolution 3: Find Mr. Right.
This one is my favorite. I don't care how many feminists stop shaving and have bushes growing out of their polyester running shorts, these bitches are still pining for Mr. Right. Every year we decide that we'll stop chatting up the douchebags at the bar and start giving the nice guys a chance. And every year we spill our beer on the nice guy trying to push the blonde with the fake tits and hair extensions out of the way to get to the douche bag in the flannel shirt and "ironic" Buddy Holly glasses. Or the one in the band that hasn't really started and just bought a guitar two days ago, still in the case. Awesome. Maybe some of us find Mr. Right, but it's probably because he gave you a ride home and held your hair back as you vomited after the douche bag ditched you for one of those hipster chicks. I'm going to be a realist here and say that there's a 100% chance that I will not find Mr. Right this year. However, I will make a commitment to testing out as many possibilities as my peesh can handle.
Resolution 4: Kick bad habits: drinking, smoking, whoring, cursing, etc.
Two words: FUCK THIS. If I wanted to be boring and sober I would have gone to rehab at 16 and moved to Utah. The best part of my day is getting home so I can crack open a beer or bottle of wine, smoke a cigarette on my balcony and put all my pills in a bag, shake it, reach in and take the two that I grab first. Some might call this reckless, I call it Monday - Thursday. We'll get into what happens Friday-Sunday next time. I plan on continuing all of my bad habits. I've come this far and 27 is the golden age right? Bring it on cirrhosis of the liver and emphysema. I've had a good run.
So while the rest of you resolution makers are out there getting gym passes, baking your neighbors cookies, working late and throwing out the vodka bottles you usually hide under your bathroom sink just know that I'm proud of you. You can find me smoking, yelling "Fuck" and taking body shots off the guy who looks like Vinny from Jersey Shore before we go to Taco Bell with the change you left in my couch.
See you bitches in 2012.
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