Ho Ho Ho de Har Har Har

Well, it seems like we are yet again are rapidly approaching that time of the year when, in a fit of self-judgemental pique, we make promises to ourselves for things to do in the new year that we have no intention of keeping. That is, of course, after we manage to survive the enforced happiness and cheer of Thanksgiving and Christmas, where your toleration for time spent with your relatives is determined by the amount of alcohol in the house. Yeah, family is a wonderful thing . . . and, generally, the farther away they live from you, the more wonderful they are.

Anyway, as I sit here, the lower half of my left hand completely numb from a cortisone injection - which, it turns out, wasn't all it was cracked up to be because, aside from being numb, the problem that provoked the injection still hurts like hell, and I'm sure that tonight I shall have disturbing dreams of the harpoon they used to stick me. No, really, I'm sure that Moby Dick would have fled in fright at the sight of that thing, but I digress. With yet one more chapter of this sad comic-opera I laughingly call me life drawing to a close, I find myself wondering what I can do to at least add a little variety to the coming year. So, a few resolutions I've been kicking around . . .

1) Resist the urge to resume smoking, because everyone has to have a smoking-related resolution, right? Okay, so I've been smoke-free for a while, and you'd think I'd be over it by now. But my friend's husband smokes, which is actually a poor way to describe it. There aren't, however, really any words that would accurately describe it. To say that he smokes in much the same way a US Steel plant smokes is merely a poor reflection of the reality of it. As he sits in the living room after coming home from work, I often wonder how it is that he sees the television through the blue fog of smoke, which also seems to be something of a waste of an HDTV set. The Allies didn't produce this much smoke when they were hiding their movements prior to crossing the Rhine River.

So, you can see the temptation for an ex-smoker, right? It's kind of like putting a recovering alcoholic in charge of quality control in a distillery. I mean, they're right there, beckoning seductively . . . c'mon, just one, for old time's sake . . . What's the worst that could possibly happen? Aside from another heart attack, I mean. Then again, that's what they make transplant lists for, right?

2) Stop obeying the dogs. All you pet owners out there, you know what I mean. Or, depending on your level of training and indoctrination, perhaps you don't. But let's just say that the dogs have me excpetionally well-trained. I mean, off-hand, I really can't think of any other canines I know who get pancakes every morning just because they like their light, fluffy taste. Mmm-mmm, buttery with a dab of mapleness.

Of course, the fuzzy little girl Westie-Boston mix is the ringleader in all of this. She just has this really unnerving way of making herself look completely broken-hearted and miserable when she gets disappointed. Now, some of you may just say that is anthropomorphism run wild, but I'm betting that's just because you've never met a Terrier with ambition. There's a reason why I call her the Anti-Christ - but not to her face, naturally - and she knows where I sleep. So it actually kind of pays off, in terms of self-survival, to keep her happy.

3) Stop losing my mind every time my friend stumbles across another get-rich-quick ponzi scheme. I mean, it's only money, right? They say that you can't take it with you but, having always belonged to the school of thought that holds he who dies with the most toys wins, I was looking forward to the chance of actually trying to take it with me. But, in the long run, stressing myself out over the issue just isn't good for what little health I have left.

Besides, what can you actually say when someone informs you that they just "bought" $25,000.00 in Iraqi dinar because "something big is going to happen"? Yes, I know, doing that is kind of like buying $25,000.00 worth of Reichsmarks in the Spring of 1945 because "something big" was going to happen with it, but why let logic enter into it? After all, I've been informed that you just have to have faith and believe it will happen. Of course, I'd be more tempted to believe if we were talking about a stable currency in a country that actually had a functioning economy, but that's just me . . .

4) Masturbate more. Or less. I haven't really decided on this one yet. Though I never developed the furry palms that I was promised - yes, I'm bisexual, I use both hands - my vision has definitely become fuzzier over the years. There is, of course, no luvin' like the luvin' you give yourself and, hey, a date with myself is always a sure thing. But will I still respect myself in the morning? Who the hell cares? Really, I am the best I've ever had . . .

5) Finally locate that horde of nymphomaniac 18-year-old cheerleaders. And while that may mean having to move to Utah, that's a sacrifice I'm willing to make . . .

6) Go for at least one month without seeing a doctor of medical professional of any kind . . . Excuse me while I laugh myself silly, but a guy can dream, can't he?

And there you have it. Six resolutions for the new year that, much like the proverbial snowball in hell, have no chance. Now all I have to do is make it to 2011, so I can do this all over again . . .