HAPPY NEW YEARS

2008 is finally here. Auld Lana Lang My Vagina! Yeah, I know that doesn't make sense. I don't really give a fuck.

Anyway, the Keith’s web site is doing well. It may be a new year, but fortunately for Keith’s, arbitrary cursing and hand jobs are still funny.

This morning, shortly after I spit on yet another cashier at RaceTrac who greeted me with "Happy New Year!", I couldn't help but realize how naive that statement is. As if a seven switching over to an eight is some kind of guarantee that your world is now rife with opportunity. If you're cleaning the toilets at an Waffle House on December 31, odds are you won't be performing neurosurgery on January 1. Believing that a new year offers new hope is kind of like calling your boyfriend Bobby instead of Jeff to convince yourself he's not the same fat bitch you've were married to for five years.

I'm not trying to suggest that this year will suck. I'm stating it definitively. '07 sucked, '08 will suck, and '09 will suck (especially since that'll mark the last New Years' celebration where people can wear those sweet novelty glasses with zeroes for eyes). I don't say this as a jaded cynic (despite the fact that I am one). I say this as an individual who sees the big picture. Even if you're a comparatively happy person, odds are the year, when viewed in its entirety, will suck a big, fat walrus scrotum. You'll have good days, to be sure, but unless you win the lottery or land a job as a porn tester, you're in for another shitty year.

But enough about you. Even though the year is still young and I'm only a few sheets into my "365 Ways to Torture a Drifter" daily calendar, I think it's as good a time as any to see how I'm doing on my resolutions. The burn marks covering the neck and face of my Cuban houseboy indicate that I've already broken at least one, but we'll see how the others are stacking up. (B) means I have already broken the resolution and (U) means it remains unbroken.

I resolve to...

stop throwing used tampons (mine and others) at meter maids. (U - I think. I didn't actually ask what her occupation was.)

limit myself to six abortions. (U - This early in the year it'd be physically impossible to require six abortions, but I think this one will hold up. Unless Mickey Rooney gets all "rapey" again.)

visit sick children and lift their spirits. (Not sure. I did visit sick children, but who can say for sure that the unconscious enjoy getting their assholes fisted?)

stop setting fire to assisted living centers. (BBBBBBBBBBBB)

be more of a team player during orgies. (Little bit of B, little bit of U. Mama's vag is open to the public, but I'm sorry, beluga caviar is too pricey to just haphazardly rub it on anyone's taint.)

quit smoking. (Cigarettes - B. Pot, meth, crack, Jew pubes - B)

lose 20 pounds. (U - I know it seems unlikely that I lost 20 pounds this quickly, but you haven't seen what I just pulled out of my ass.)

make amends with all whom I've wronged. (Mostly U, but I'll be dead and buried before I apologize to Ted Kennedy's balls.)

attend church regularly. (U - Where else am I supposed to get emotionally damaged young boys?)

live a more environmentally friendly lifestyle. (U - Which has been really tough on the midgets who pull my rickshaw.)

stop shouting "I know goddamn well what 'bestiality' means!" at judges. (B)

quit drinking. (U, to be immediately followed for the rest of the year by B.)

There they are. For the most part I think I've done a good job of sticking to them. There have been slip-ups, but nobody ever said self-improvement was easy. It's a long and hard struggle that goes on and on until the day you die. And then you're perfect. Happy New Year!