Figuring that good intentions must be worth at least a little something on the great Cosmic Scales of Justice and Retribution, I hereby offer my New Year’s Resolutions for 2006:
The next time Johnny Damon calls and leaves a message saying he needs advice about something “really important” I’ll call him back quicker.
During 2006 I shall not once refer to George Bush as “the most brilliant man in the known Universe, with the wisdom of ten Solomons”.
No watching Home Shopping Network “Diamonique Festivals”, trolling eBay for vintage “Sing Along with Danny Bonaduce” albums, or boring people by telling them what an under-appreciated sport “Extreme Lawn Mowing” is.
When the President calls begging me to tell him how to clean up the mess in Iraq, I will just hang up the phone.
No 3 a.m. fried-tripe-and-jelly sandwich binges in 2006. Free-range, macrobiotic tofu toast is also gone from the menu. Damn.
It's time to give up waiting for J-Lo to call.
Dick Cheney is no longer invited to our Fourth of July Bar-b-Que; I don’t care if he does offer to bring “truckloads of Coors” and “some really hot babes from the Justice Department”.
If Mick Jagger asks me, I will tell him the truth- it’s time.
Condi Rice is no longer invited to our Fourth of July Bar-b-Que; I don’t care if she does offer to bring “truckloads of Coors” and “some really hot babes from the Justice Department”.
And finally, this is the year not to take up cross-training for the Iron Man Triathlon, learn a new language, listen more carefully to others or watch less television.
I do so resolve.