2010 is over. Thank God. It’s been a rollercoaster ride from hell, from natural disasters to the ongoing ever present recession, things have not been nice (putting it mildly). Nevertheless tonight, err….tomorrow begins a new year, new beginnings, new chances, new opportunities and for a lot a people, new resolutions.
I can tell my age is catching up to me. Because this year, my resolution is so far removed from the norm, it signifies the next step in my learning process. my own personal maturation in life. Or to repeat what my wife says “my Buddhist Monk” like ways.
As much as our President has touted change, I fear there will be none. At least not in our lifetime or not in the manner in which we expect. And that got me to thinking….why? Really, why can’t we change? As a whole, once we reach adulthood most people are set in their ways like super glued concrete shoes, only changing when traumatic events unfold.
Children are full of creativity and ideas that are unrestricted by boundaries and prejudices. Children can provide the change we need to TRULY make this world a better place. It starts at home, in your neighborhoods, in your cities. Stop dashing your child’s dreams. Give them positive reinforcement all of the time. Support their goals. Teach them. They are apt to learn life quicker from you than from a stranger in the form of public schooling.
My New Year’s resolution? To inspire all youth. Whenever and wherever I can.
Think for a second if we all did that, what would begin to transpire. So instead of trying to lose 10lbs off your fat ass in a gym program that you won’t stick with, why not volunteer at a local Boy’s and Girl’s club? Or start a tutoring program? There’s also Big Brothers/Sisters programs.
I can’t be the only person who can see that as a whole, adults have failed miserably. It’s time to hit the reset button and give our children a chance to right our wrongs.
What’s YOUR New Year’s Resolution?
I call “perv” Santa…who are you really? We can’t even see your face. I know you can magically whip up some clippers and a razor. Trim that baby llama off your face so we can see you, it’s 2010 Santa.
I always knew you were a sadist Santa. Pepper? A lump of coal? Who does that, you sick freak.
As you know Santa, me being the health nut and all, couldn’t help but notice those “rosy red cheeks”…..yeah well, I’m pretty sure that’s rosacea. Common amongst alcoholics. you should lay off the elven moonshine. How’s your cholesterol fatso? I left you Nabisco 100 calorie thin crisps and low fat milk, but you preceded to raid the fridge and demolish ALL the chicken and collard greens, dressing and cranberry sauce, and my grandma’s red velvet cake. not cool man. Next time wash the dishes.
But hey listen, I wanted to give you a heads up. I’m a light sleeper. So before you break into my house and trip the motion sensors, how about sending me a text or something before I turn my living room into a CSI episode. M’kay? Thanks.
One more thing Santa. Who’s your agent? Because the contract deals he’s making for you are unbelievable. Do you know you beat out Halloween this year? There was Christmas stuff up in stores the 2nd week in October. I thought I’d lost 2 months. That’s crazy…you, Donovan McNabb and Albert Haynesworth must all have the same agent. Send me his number.
All in all Santa, you’ve given me a lot of insomnia, anxiety, mental and physical duress over the years. This horrible relationship isn’t conducive to the kind of lifestyle I like to lead. Thanks for the faulty orange 10-speed (which coincidentally led to my bike vs car accident), the boom box radio that LL Cool J was so fond of speaking of. Nevermind that it felt like 30 bee stings whenever I plugged in the crappy power cord.
It’s over. You’re out Santa, like a MLB batter facing Tim Lincecum.
FYI, I registered you on that sex offender website. STAY AWAY FROM THE KIDS YOU PERV!
He’s coming back to the game. And as much as his peers will hate it, they will also welcome him back with open arms. All while making snide comments behind his back. No, it isn’t Brett Favre and it sure as hell ain’t Jordan. It’s Eldrick. And before you get your panties in a bunch asking who Eldrick is, I’ll tell you.
Eldrick Tont Woods…affectionately (and intimately) known as Tiger. Now, there is absolutely nothing about Tiger Woods that I could expound upon that the media hasn’t already filleted and gutted a million times already, except for one thing. Why he got caught. (no, not why he did it, why he got caught).
Tiger Woods is an island unto himself. That kinda makes it hard to do dirt when you’re visible from the weather channel’s satellites. Secondly, he went against the grain of every celeb/athlete’s mantra. He had no Entourage.
Entourage (read: boys who you pay and trust to do YOUR dirt and take the fall). These people are made up of people you know before the fame and fortune and when the shit hits the fan, will gladly scoop it up.
Celebs with entourages usually have a bad image of boozing party hounds, so Tiger refrained from having one, not realizing their true purpose. Damn, hindsight’s a bitch ain’t it?
But let me make myself really really clear. In no way do I condone Mr. Woods infidelities. He was stupid and got caught with his hands, feet and who knows what else in the cookie jar. Apparently, he thought he was a college frat boy. I remember my college days, (barely). I felt unstoppable. I vaguely remember my mother mentioning something about me burning out before I turned 25 (guess what mom, it was sooner…).
I didn’t have an entourage but I had friends I trusted impeccably. Question is, who does Tiger trust? It’s kinda funny though, because real tigers hunt solo, at night and ambush their prey. The two legged tigers we know use Patron Margaritas….or cereal.
If only he had one good friend to say “I don’t think its a good idea, let’s go” We wouldn’t be reading about all this nonsense now. But you know what, it’s not all his fault.
Let’s back up a sec. So the wifey had no idea? She was clueless? Yeah right, whatever. If the handwriting is on the wall, you just don’t apply a fresh coat of paint. Let’s not forget this has been going on for years, and she just now decided to bash his head in? A one eyed man with a cataract could see she didn’t care what Tiger did UNTIL it was about to become public knowledge.
So why are people so hellbent on what Tiger is or isn’t doing? Americans (some of us) are boring, mundane hum drum people who live their lives vicariously through someone else. Everyone wants to shake up their lives and do something wild and off the cuff but is afraid to. That’s why Vegas is so popular. What? you thought it was because of the casinos? Kill yourself now and help the census.
People like to commune socially. That’s why everyone is in everyone else’s business and personal affairs. And when celebrities and/or an athlete’s business come to light…oh boy, the fireworks fly. Tiger’s affairs were, socially speaking “a multiple orgasm” for the media and it’s endearing public.
The man liked to get his multicultural penis wet. He’s also given billions in charity benefiting children. Does this make it right? Hell no it doesn’t. Not at all. But tell me…what has your trifling baby’s daddy contributed other than his seed?
Stop casting stones. Welcome back Tiger.
Happy New year! It’s that time isn’t it? Time to make that new years resolution.
‘I’m gonna lose weight”
“I’m gonna save money”
and my all time favorite, (one that I can speak on) “I’m gonna work out and get in shape”.
Yay…I for one, welcome January. I’ll get all the cannon fodder I need for my blogs right in the gym. Here’s a question I’ve been wanting to ask so many people. Why do you need a certain time of the year as an excuse to do something that you’re NOT going to stick with year round only to make the exact same excuse at the same time next year? I stopped making resolutions a loooong time ago. I figured out that obviously, I never wanted to do said resolution in the 1st place or I would have done it a lot sooner.
I get it though..sorta. a new year. a new beginning. a new you. Thing is, this could work with other holidays as well.
Easter… “Resurrect a new you”.
July 4th…”Celebrate independence from the old you”
Christmas.. “the birth of a new you”
New Years is just another holiday excuse. Let me give you a few synonyms for the word excuse according to Brittanica: apology , cleanup, cop-out, cover up, evasion, subterfuge, justification, plea…see where I went with that?
Hey, if you stick with your fitness program…great, awesome. I owe you an heartfelt apology and I’ll offer you my personal help and assistance. But my money’s on the ones who just paid up for a whole year at their local gyms and will be outta there by……mmm, let’s say March. It won’t even be 30 days for some. C’mon, I haven’t spend the last 13 years of my life in a gym and not have noticed.
I see you…on the phones, wearing makeup, scoping out potential mates (ok nothing wrong with that part), socializing like the gym is a club without a liquor license. Refusing a trainer and still working out wrong, holding up the machines that real gym members need. And you wonder how can you work out for so long and not see any results.
I didn’t forget about you weekend warriors (part timers in the gym). you have a little definition, so you swagger around the gym after you bench 225, flexing like you’re in the Arnold Classic, grunting like you’re in a strongman competition, wearing your little brother’s wifebeater so you can appear bigger. Tipping the scales at 220lbs does not put you in the big boy club (unless you’re 5’9). These guys usually quit after they tear a muscle from lifting improperly.
Ladies, ladies, ladies…there are sporting goods stores that sell non-tight fitness gear. So there won’t be any need to tie a shirt around your waist to cover up all that ass you’re trying to hide. An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure. Don’t buy it, and we won’t look. Thus negating the need to cover up what you thought was sexy in the sporting goods dressing room. If men decided to wear loincloths in the pilates class, it would take you outta your game just a little bit wouldn’t it? Mmhmm, thought so. It’s all good til the shoe is on the other foot. Or, to put in more simpler graphic terms…til there’s a large penis in your face and you begin to remember why you’re working out in the first place.
All in all, its going to be fun times these first few months. I have a few goals of my own as well. Only I made them back in October
See ya in the gym!
In less than 12 hours I’ll age another year, and yet I am completely unfazed. All the rhetoric surrounding birthdays is designed to do what exactly? The cakes, the parties, the sheer drunkeness (if that’s your kind of thing) is supposed to be a celebration of life? Or…is all the fanfare and festivities just a mere distraction from what you should be doing. Self evaluation. a gut check. I like to think of birthdays as milestone markers where I take out my compass and see what direction in life I’m headed in.
My friends think that I become a somber cynical rattlesnake the days surrounding my birthday. The truth… my eyes are wide open to everything. In my deepest moments of self reflection, I see things from an “outside looking in” standpoint where I become super critical of myself and the world as I see it. All the facades, all the bs we normally take on the chin, all the societal dances that we do, all fade away for me during this time. I gotta tell you, it’s all funny as hell. Straight up comic relief. I can’t help but to laugh at the lengths we go through. Why? to get a job? to get a date? to get the respect you deserve? to be someone else’s idea of a “good” person? Every year, I take a step away from the “norm”. And when I look back, I say to myself, “what the hell was I thinking?!”
Man, why couldn’t I have had this mentality 20 years ago? We all say it, Hindsight is 20/20. I’ve actually come to realize that wouldn’t have been a good move for me. I know now that it was, and still is the journey not the destination, that’s where all the fun stuff happens. The path lesser walked. Google maps ain’t gonna get me there.
This upcoming year I’m going off-road. See ya in 2010.
PS. Shout outs to the drunken Christmas carolers of Middleburg, Florida. FYI, ghetto rednecks, booze and a tortured version of “Silent Night” is not a good look. lmfao. WHO FRIGGIN CAROLS THESE DAYS?!? I should add…with sincerity. I still love you guys tho…
I just submitted my vacation time off at work. I friggin needed it too…
SOMEBODY was about to be the recipient of 6 months of pent up aggravation, and recession-laden aggression.
I figured I’d get the most bang for my bucks by selecting the week before labor day. That way with weekends included I’d get 2 weeks for the price of 1.
Kinda got me to thinking, why exactly do we celebrate labor as a holiday? Hell, might as well celebrate a root canal or worse, a prostate exam. Celebrating back breaking work(well, for some of us) has got to be the dumbest thing ever. Rejoice! I have a job cleaning toilets. Yay! My boss has nose hairs that looks like someone rammed a miniature straw broom up there.
In 1882, labor unions thought it was a good idea to give their people time off for union speeches and meetings under the guise of festive activities and parades. I knew there had to be an ulterior motive!
Granted, I know what most of you are thinking…well, Dennis in these economic times and hardships, people should be extra grateful for working.
True. Very true. I’m also very grateful for the ability to have a bowel movement regularly as well. It supposed to happen. No fireworks in my bathroom though. Unless I’ve had Chele’s creole seasonings.
Let’s get to the REAL reason we celebrate Labor Day…no, the end of summer doesn’t count. Football. NCAA and NFL. Hellz yeah…
Are you ready for some football?