Auld Babe Syne

Every single New Year’s resolution is about the same thing:  lose weight.  Get less fat.  Be less repulsive.  Overall, aspire to a Gwynethlike combination of strength and fragility.  I don’t have any problem with that.  I’d love to see more people I want to fuck on a daily basis.  But vague goals are impossible to achieve.

So this year, get more specific.  Resolve to start smoking cigarettes, or electronic cigarettes, or no cigarettes.  Finally embrace kale by drinking three green smoothies a day and nothing else.  Stop drinking alcohol that makes you bloated.  Take up a sport.  Invest in a gym.  Become frenemies with a megalomaniac trainer who knows how to make a name for herself (this one can potentially backfire).  Figuring out what the fuck you’re actually going to do is half the battle.

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