By staff writer JD Rebello

“Don't you know they are talkin' bout my resolutions…it sounds like a whisper.” -Tracy Chapman (Fuck you. Those are the lyrics.)

I‘m not perfect.

God, it was hard to type that with a straight face. Still, every year I devote my energies to being a better son, writer, brother, friend, and prison bitch. And 2005 will be no exception. So, without further ado, and mostly because I hate writing introductory paragraphs, my resolutions for 2005.

…Sounds like a whisper…

*I will stop listening to Dashboard and John Mayer. In a related resolution, I will stop jamming icicles into my eyes. (Seriously though, can we stop those pricks before they release another album? That “Daughters” song is without a doubt, the single worst song I've ever heard, and it definitely gets bumped up because so many girls put the lyrics right into their AIM profiles assuming it's about a breakup. It's not. John Mayer sucks balls. I've had it.)

*I'm going to put a boot-sized dent in the forehead of people who continue to tell me what a brilliant comedy “Napoleon Dynamite” is. It's bloody not. I watched it. It sucked. Why the fuck is this movie being hyped so much? A. It's not funny. B. The main character is an unbelievable douche. C. It's not funny.

*I will bring the NHL back. Not just for me, for all the white New Englanders who are sick of seeing SportsCenter consist entirely of Kobe, Shaq, Kobe, Shaq, Karl Malone, Kobe, Shaq, Phil Jackson, and Kobe.


Small packets of female delight!

*I will attempt to save all of my pseudo-whipped friends. Pseudo-whipped essentially is a term to describe guys whipped by a girl they ARE NOT dating. Have you ever seen this? This is happening way too much. It's one thing to be whipped if you're getting some. But if your sex life is a black tie affair, as in “Jack It Required,” and you're still some chick's whipping boy, that's just sad. I cannot stress this enough.

*I will stop leaving voicemails to Yankee fans that consist of me making choking noises.

*I will stop making that face when people tell me they voted for George Bush. You know the face. The same face you make when someone tells you they dropped out of high school.

*I will stop using racial slurs as a means to dodge jury duty.

*I will stop poking girls on TheFacebook.com and telling everyone that “poked” is code for “slept with.”

*I will buy a Peyton Manning jersey before a big test and then fail, just to show everyone what a loser he is.

*I will lay off the South. Everyone should share their moral values of hating gays, expecting 18-year-olds to raise babies because the Bible says they should, rooting for NASCAR, scoffing at dentists, banging your hot cousin, and ruining America for the good people of the blue states. Fuck you, South, and the gang-banged Confederate horse you rode in on. By the way, quick history lesson: Union 1, Confederacy 0. Tear the goddamned flag down now.

*I will stop trying to win a championship on NBA2K5 with an all-white team. It's just not going to happen. Good hustle though, Van Horn.

*I will never play fantasy football ever again. For those not in the know, a girl won the league this year. A girl. You should have seen the other guys in the league. You'd think we had just been through a terrorist attack. I'm not even joking. I'm questioning my faith in God even as we speak.

*I will adopt a dog, name it Ramon Chacon, then put it to sleep, and hope symbolism takes its course.

*I will stop referring to the NFL as “The Patriots and some other assholes.”

*I will support the campaign for Hillary in 2008, and hope Adolf Hitler comes back from the dead and runs against her, just so I don't feel like an asshole.

*I will stop standing near the Tampax in the supermarket and whispering: “You need it” every time some woman grabs a pack.

*I will stop sending Mischa Barton my screenplays for soft-core sex films. Even though, I mean, seriously.

*I will stop running up to Asian people and being all: “Look! I'm a tsunami! Flee! Flee!”

*I will stop making jokes in the absolute worse taste. Even though I bet dollars to donuts you laughed at the previous joke.

*I will get in touch with my feminine side. Then feel its boobs.

*I will start getting my columns in on time.

*I will tell gross lies about the punctuality of my columns.

*I will…

…Will you?

Bet that gave you goosebumps.

Happy New Year, everybody. And many more, or something.

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