Well, it’s officially 2016. I never know what day it is, but I generally know what year it is by Valentine’s Day at the latest. In the bad old days, when I signed checks to pay my bills in January, I’d always write the previous year’s date, scribble over it, and then wonder if it was still legal scrip for all debts public and private until it hoovered out my bank account and proved it.
It’s not 1990 anymore, so I don’t have to worry about paying my bills with checks. I don’t have any money, and can’t pay my bills, so the topic never comes up, really. I take it everyone has changed over to buying everything using their iPhone, but I can’t even pawn my Motorola Razr, never mind pay bills with it.
As I am wont to say every night when I lay my head on my pillow, “But enough about me.” Let’s get right down to it. You don’t want to hear about me. You want to hear about my New Year’s Resolutions. You want to compare and contrast your list with mine, like you learned to do in English class in the seventh grade, if you attended seventh grade before 1975, I mean. If you attended seventh grade this year, for instance, you’d only be capable of copying and pasting my list on your school-issued iPad and turning it in as your final exam. If I wrote this list in a cursive font, you’d be screwed.
Sippican’s List of New Year’s Resolutions for 2016
- I promise to stop reading The Decline of the West by Oswald Spengler and laughing uproariously
- I promise to feed both my children this year. By February, it might be one to the other, but a promise is a promise
- I promise to stop talking in a Bavarian accent to everyone that works at
the Walmart for no reason. Why they’re working in the Walmart for no
reason isn’t my fault, but the Bavarian accent isn’t helping - I promise to stop letting the air out of Tom Brady’s footballs using George Bush’s weather machine
- I promise to stop oppressing everybody by respiring
- I promise to stop punching clerks in the Home Depot who ask me if I need help. This is going to be hard for me, so I’ll do it in two tranches. By June, the girls, and by next December, everyone
- I promise to learn a second language. Besides swearing, I mean
- I promise to give America back to the Indians. They’re already here on H1-B visas, and I like curry, so this is no skin off my back, really
- I promise to quit smoking. I also promise to buy a fire extinguisher and stop trying to work on the pellet stove while it’s running
- I promise to start really eating right. Count every calorie. I’ll buy a fitness watch. One of those good ones that even counts your heartbeats when you sleep. I’ll start buying supplements, and I’ll mix them into the kale smoothies I’ll make for breakfast. I’ll get a gym membership, and hire a personal trainer. I’ll start with hardcore cardio-type stuff, but then I’ll move on to free weights and elliptical work. Then I’ll start doing Crossfit all the time, and start talking about doing Crossfit stuff all the time, to everyone I meet, children in the street, strangers on the Intertunnel, even to the clerks in Walmart, but not using a Bavarian accent anymore, of course. Or I won’t do any of that stuff, and just shovel the snow in my own driveway instead
Happy New Year to all my friends on the Intertunnel. Both of you.
9 Responses
Happy New Year, all you Sullivans!
I read it as walking with a Bavarian accent, you can stop I'll start.
Bavarian accent: Change to one from the Palatinate. too.
You really should stop punching those clerks. Instead, lie down and tell them stories about you mother.
Second language: I suggest the Swedish Chef's Bork, bork, bork, mock-Swedish. You might want to try Gibberish,
In the mean-time, pat the Spare on his head and get him a narrow-brimmed safety hat for protection and rub jalapeno oil on your fingers to write more faster.
Sipp, is this you out on a day pass?
A guy is driving around the back woods and he sees a sign in front of a broken down shanty-style house: Talking Dog For Sale
He rings the bell and the owner appears and tells him the dog is in the backyard.
The guy goes into the backyard and sees a nice looking Labrador Retriever sitting there.
"You talk?" he asks.
"Yep," the Lab replies.
After the guy recovers from the shock of hearing a dog talk, he says "So, what's your story?"
The Lab looks up and says, "Well, I discovered that I could talk when I was pretty young. I wanted to help the government, so I told the CIA. In no time at all they had me jetting from country to country, sitting in rooms with spies and world leaders, because no one figured a dog would be eavesdropping.
"I was one of their most valuable spies for eight years running. But the jetting around really tired me out, and I knew I wasn't getting any younger so I decided to settle down. I signed up for a job at the airport to do some undercover security, wandering near suspicious characters and listening in. I uncovered some incredible dealings and was awarded a batch of medals.
"I got married, had a mess of puppies, and now I'm just retired."
The guy is amazed. He goes back in and asks the owner what he wants for the dog.
"Ten dollars," the guy says.
"Ten dollars? This dog is amazing! Why on earth are you selling him so cheap?"
"Because he's a liar. He never did any of that stuff."
Moral of the story: Let sleeping dogs lie.
Best to you all for the New Year. Without irony or snark, let us hope for a better 2016.
Happy New Year! I'd wish you a prosperous year but I hate to see money go to the government.
Once at a big box store I had a check out clerk ask me something in some language tantalizingly similar to English. I answered her with as much of chorus of 'Millie the Moocher' as I could remember…Hiddy, Hiddy, HO! Not surprisingly the manager asked me to leave.
John The River, as well he should! 'Twas Minnie who was the moocher. Did you dance like Cab Calloway while singing?
If I can just receive SC all year, I'll be happy.
Never stop!