HAPPY NEW YEAR!

As you ponder your ability to control your own destiny, I invite you to reexamine any New Year's resolutions you may have scribbled on the back of a cocktail napkin besmirched with bloody mary and the eeensy weeensy little bit of baby throw-up you wiped from the corner of your lips (1. don't get pregnant, 2. make sure little Timmy makes parole, 3. stop being such a whore all the time).

In the fog of your hangover, ask yourself if every New Year's resolution you've ever made has ever materialized. Is this just the logical extension of your college mantra, I'll never drink again, I'll never drink again, I'll never drink again? Click your heels together three times and maybe that girl next to your with the slight moustache and cankles will be swept away in a gentle whirlwind before she can wake up, want to cuddle, and then ask you for your telephone number. And no, she won't settle for your email address.

Ladies and gentlemen, 2007 will be just as wondrous and spectacular as 2006. Chances are you won't, but you could still be hit by a bus and killed at any second. Why restrict the already narrow scope of your brief existence? Stop making resolutions that you will not keep (e.g. no weed and porn on schoolnights)!

"I put it to you, Camp Firewood, as we spend the last dinner together, be proud of who you are! Look at me, Ma, I made it! I'm okay!"

To hammer this point home, I'll pass on the following story relayed to me just yesterday:

So I'm having sex with this bartender who was working at the place I went to for New Year's Eve, right, and she's got these two cats, and I'm wicked allergic to cats. Right in the middle of it I start sneezing, like serial sneezing, right, and I'm, like, convulsing right there on the bed. She's kind of groovin on it, so I keep on, and it's like, "AAAACHOOOOO!" and she's all "UNNNNNNHHH!"... "ACHOOOO!" "UNNNNNHHH!", and these cats are just sitting there looking at me the whole time while I sneeze and flop around with this girl on me going "UNNNNNHH!" "YYYEEEEAAA!" and they're just looking at me.

I guess it's not as weird as that bartender from Ivanhoe and her pet chicken.