The New Year is here, and it’s time to look ahead with a renewed sense of purpose and optimism. It’s time to finally get it all together and do the right thing. It’s time to lose weight, eat healthy, and quit texting while driving. Or at least that’s what we tell ourselves. Truth be told, nobody really keeps their New Year’s resolutions. Throughout human history, no one has ever done it. No lie. So in the spirit of being honest, here are a few resolutions that we won’t be keeping in 2009.
I will say “good morning” whether I really mean it or not.
I will delete any Facebook friend who uses emoticons.
I will figure out what Spanglish is and master it.
I will not exercise for a few months, lose 10 pounds, and then sit on my ass the rest of the year.
I will learn to love Vampire Weekend.
I will form a longhaired, fully bearded power trio and name it “Hot Youth.”
I will make the Kessel run in less than 12 parsecs.
I will get it on like Donkey Kong.
I will improperly elicit money and favors.
I will catch Mayor Joe Riley and demand that he give me his pot of gold.
I will stop retelling stories to colleagues.
I will read The Onion for stock advice.
I will bust a sag.
I will quit blowing my entire paycheck on lap dances.
I will yell “bailout!” every time I hear the names “Ayn Rand” and “Milton Friedman.”
I will have a well-planned, kick-ass Halloween costume, rather than some BS picked out the day before.
I will act (roughly) my age.
I will go to the dentist.
I will pause to gaze at my navel.
I will find D.B. Cooper and steal his heart.
I will enthusiastically sign on to Twitter.
I will remember to stop being so forgetful.
I will learn to wear high heels.
I will build a replica of the Hunley out of unsent love letters to Sen. Glenn McConnell.
I will absolutely, positively stop being so extreme.
I will buy an American car.
I will stop using phrases like “turn my crank” or “float my boat.”
I will live every day like an episode of The Hills.
I will not watch any show starring Bret Michaels or anyone who has had sex with him.
I will admit that I need glasses.
I will actually read the books I check out from the library.
I will learn to cook something besides spaghetti and eggs.
I resolve to change my name to “Butterknife” and become a household name.
I will not use the word “retarded.”
I will actually watch the Netflix video that’s been on my coffee table for three months.
I will brush my teeth before I go to bed, even on the nights when I get hammered.
I will wear a track suit to work.
I will build a Ninja Warrior course in my backyard.
I will challenge someone to a duel.
I will randomly use the phrase “Too Big to Fail.”
I will save the planet.
I will ooh and ahh as Mayor Keith Summey loses weight after gastric bypass surgery.
I will be surprised when Mayor Summey puts it back on.
I will not spend the workday shopping at Amazon.com, bidding on eBay, and making playlists on iTunes.
I will continue to believe that the Fair Tax is a possibility.
I will not stop 100 yards into the Cooper River Bridge Run and vomit.
I will no longer heed the advice of my cat.
I will no longer proclaim that bacon is a vegetable.
I will buy a ShamWow.
I will stop giving bad high-fives.
I will remain distrustful of the liberal media.
I will finally accept that what used to be one of the most comprehensive, straightforward, and reliable news sources on television has somehow disintegrated into an unwatchable tangle of poorly-executed slang and pop culture references, visual distractions, and endless cornball yammering.
I will get that mole checked out.
I will not file for an extension with the IRS.
I will pay my outstanding parking tickets.
I will develop an appreciation for the opera.
I will no longer date guys who wear popped collars.
I will no longer date girls who do cocaine.
I will take Thomas Ravenel off my Friends List.
I will make Arthur Ravenel my bitch.
I will not pass out immediately after receiving oral sex.
I will go to rehab.
I will find Osama bin Laden. And Bigfoot. And the Loch Ness Monster.
I will give up douchebaggery.
I will hit every deadline.
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Stay cool. Support City Paper.
City Paper has been bringing the best news, food, arts, music and event coverage to the Holy City since 1997. Support our continued efforts to highlight the best of Charleston with a one-time donation or become a member of the City Paper Club.