My resolutions for 2010

Dude, I’m tellin’ ya…….

Well, the end of the year is coming near and not a moment too soon. I think I speak for the majority of us who feel that 2009 sucked.

Big time.

So with that in mind, I am pretty jacked for the coming year. It absolutely can’t get any worse. I was out of work all 52 weeks of 2009 and pretty light on money the entire time. I had to give up my little condo to join forces with a roommate. There were many nights of the infamous “Metallica hand sandwich “. That is when the band Metallica was so poor and destitute that they had a piece of bologna on the palm of their hand. With mustard. And that’s known as the “hand sandwich” —for those people who don’t know what it’s like to be down-and-out.

No bread required.

But being pretty optimistic about 2010, I have a handful of resolutions that I am adamant about keeping. It’s all about self-improvement, baby.

So in no particular order, here are the promises that I have made to myself: 

—- No matter how many lives need to be sacrificed or how many billions of dollars spent, I will win my fantasy baseball league in 2010.

—-I will get off of Obama’s payroll very, very soon and resume the life of an eccentric, gruff, if not lovable tax-paying son-of-a-bitch. And upon doing so, I will then resume the usual bitching about the long hours, the unappreciative boss, the stress, and the general morons populating the office; immediately re-adopting the (delusional) sense of entitlement I abandoned about 12 months ago. After all, it’s the American way.

—-I will take a cruise in 2010 courtesy of a freebie from one of those vacation package joints that couldn’t say “Yes ” as many times as I could say “No ” at one of their high-pressure bullshit sessions. Thanks, suckers.

—-With God as my witness, in 2010 I will surrender my guilty pleasure of getting drunk and searching for on-line episodes of The Two Coreys and I Didn’t Know I was Pregnant.

—-I promise to stop drunken texting at 2AM in 2010. That means that about 37 women are breathing a huge sigh of relief right now.

{Editor’s note: This does not mean I won’t drunkenly text you at 1AM or 3AM. Just be glad that I’m not a drunken caller on the telephone. And let’s leave it at that.}

—-Come hell or high water, I will get out to Las Vegas this year to visit my parents. And I don’t care if I have to rip off some vacation outfit a second time to make it all happen; an outfit that has no idea who the hell they are up against.

{Editor’s note: I attended the Chicago Blackhawks game Sunday night and right upon entering the stadium doors, I was accosted by a guy from the exact same vacation outfit asking me to join his mega-drawing. I was so tempted to sign up again and try to weezle a trip to Vegas out of them}.           Man, are those vacation people accomodating, or what? Maybe the next game I go to….I’ll do it.

—-I promise to totally lay off of Chicago Bears head coach Lovie Smith, Flavor-Flav, Corey Feldman, balloon boy hoaxster Richard Henne, Martha Stewart, Andy Dick, the Kardashians, Paris Hilton, Lindsay Lohan, Britney Spears, and Richard Simmons as long as they collectively agree to cut their throats and quit pissing the rest of the world off.

—-I vow not to sink down to Evan Williams whiskey in 2010. I just won’t do it. Nor Early Times either.  I went from Jack Daniels down to Jim Beam in 2009. I won’t go any lower. I just won’t.  Nope.  Won’t do it.

{Editor’s note: To aid in this effort, please send all donations to the usual address:

1234 Fake Street

Thank you in advance for all of your generous contributions}.  

—-I vow to continue to give groups such as ComEd, Nicor, Comcast, the United States government, local and federal law enforcement, the Dixie Chicks, Discover Card, and all the other evil entities in this world as much hell and hostility as I can drum up. Just for shits and giggles, ya know what I mean?

—-I vow to cut back on my overall drinking in 2010. While this could result in several liquor stores closing and a devastating effect on the economy, I think my liver will thank me. And if it doesn’t, I’ll drown that ungrateful organ in a river of gin and whiskey.

So those are my chief resolutions for the upcoming year. I know they won’t be easy to accomplish, but I’m pretty determined.

You eat enough hand sandwiches and you’d be surprised how much energy you have.

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