I am not going to write any New Years resolutions this year because they're dumb. If there is one thing I have learned about myself up to this point it's that I will never exercise.
I think I have done all the changing anyone possibly could within the last couple months and that's good enough for me. Rather than tell a bunch of people I'm going to do a bunch of shit I'll forget about in a week, I'm just going to keep on doing what I'm doing. Because it seems to be working out.
If I could have anything for Christmas, repercussions not an option, I would choose a lifetime supply of Vicodin. There are times once in awhile when I wish someone would step on my foot really hard and break a bone or accidentally do something temporarily painful but not life-altering to me so I could get a prescription to Vicodin. I realize this is somewhat fucked and Vicodin's not that cool anyway, right? I know.
I have already forgotten about that thought though, and instead I'm going to talk about some other things that don't matter. Like milk, and how good it is.
There's a reason Santa drinks milk with his cookies. He has good taste. Although I do think Santa uses milk as a cover-up for his severe alcoholism. Why else would he be so fat with such a red, bulbous nose?
I like to think that people prefer hand-made gifts over store-bought gifts and this is how I justify buying myself shit during the Holidays.
It'd be cool if I walked into my room on Christmas day and there was a naked man standing under my doorway. Mistletoe or not, it'd be a nice surprise. Instead, I'm probably going to be experiencing Zoe in an ugly sweater laying on my floor eating yogurt and talking about how she really needs to get laid.
HAPPY HOLIDAYS!
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