It’s New Year’s Eve and I’m so excited that I could just pee on a prostitute. I mean, if she wanted me to. I wouldn’t necessarily like it, I’d just do it to be accommodating because I’m in a good mood. Sorry I haven’t been around as much as usual but it’s been for totally altruistic purposes. So I can get rich. Seriously? Things have come up and we might return to the states even sooner than expected. So I’m frantically trying to get as much of my book written as possible. Although I won’t be done before we leave, I’ll be close. This is the first book that I haven’t blown off after that 10 to 20 thousand word mark when past ideas have fizzled out like a damp crack rock. This one’s got legs, baby!
I promise to be more attentive to your wants and needs again soon. I’m seriously considering starting a meth habit so I can increase my working hours from 3 a day to 22. I still have to weigh the pros and cons.
This week’s post is admittedly weak, but in an effort to reward you with slight amusement for sticking with me through this slight lull, I give you this year’s resolutions…..
Stop knocking on my neighbor’s door and borrowing cups of ecstasy.
Throw someone under the bus while I’m on the chopping block. Ooohh, and definitely backdoor someone, hard.
Murder someone for wearing Crocs.
Find out what the IT in “it is what it is” is and murder IT.
Stop being so murdery.
Spend less time on the internet and more time on the web.
Figure out the ending of Lost. I think it had something to do with Cobb’s dream but I can’t be sure.
Figure out the ending of Inception. I think it had something to do with John Locke’s false teeth.
Fix this damn boat and find Colonel Kurtz.
Kick Glenn Beck in his vagina.
Punch Rosie O’Donnell in her testicles.
Fist-pump Snooki in her hemorrhoids.
Stop being so gross.
Find a ninja and get him to bite me. (I’m not sure how that works, honestly.)
Break Bad. Or, I should say, break even badder.
Rescue, foster and re-home more zombies than last year.
Teach young women not to get tattoos, not to go around kicking hornet’s nests and not to play with fire. The basics.
Write a best selling trilogy and NOT die before it blows the fuck up.
Get published at least once on both McSweeny’s and The Huffington Post.
Buy eggs at 7 cents a piece and sell them for 5 cents a piece and make a profit.
Clean up the Gulf seabed using only Tony Heywood’s liver and a bottle of turpentine.
Single handedly be the reason that the national vocabulary definition of ‘product’ goes from hair gel back to blow.
Just kidding about Snooki, I’d totally hit that.
I’ll be back at my regularly scheduled day and time next Sunday as well as checking in on everybody, I promise. Happy New Year!!