New Year Bullshit Begins

Listen.

Closely.

Can you hear it?

Everywhere, in bathrooms all over the globe, people are studiously picking up and plucking dental floss from it's dust-covered station in the bathroom, last touched when it was handed free to you at your dentist's office.

Resolve to floss!

Can you smell it?

Just flare your nostrils ever so slightly.

Yoga classes from here to every uptight yoga studio, from cheap to pricey, as the masses align their newly received yoga mats side by side. Placed so tightly together in the room, the body odour is enough to resolve to never return again.

Resolve to be zen! Be fit! Be healthy!

Because THIS YEAR is different. In that it ends in a 2. Or some stupid reason. Therefore your lame ass resolutions will stick this year.

Right?

Yeah, me neither.

I give it two weeks. Or whatever. It's hard for me to type this as I shovel my face full of chocolates, gluten-free brownies, Turtles, salted cashews, Lindors, and   self-respect   this healthy apple  the reality check that my clothes don't fit me anymore  straight spoonfuls of granulated sugar.

Happy 2012, Y'all.

I'm off to go let out a few seams on my jeans. (Yeah right, we all know I can't sew. You got me).


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