Some Stuff, Different Year

You know, I’m not one to be overly introspective. I always expect myself to improve in the things I do, but setting actual goals and time limits, that’s not something I’m really into. That being said, I actually have a few New Years Resolutions this go around. Like I said, I’m not usually one to set resolutions… Well, except for the usual pledge to meet more girls who are quick to get out of their pants. Now calm down. I know what you’re thinking. But contrary to popular belief, my goal every year is NOT to pick up the most sluttish and easiest girls out there. I have been working, for quite some time and with more than a little bit of effort, mind you, on a theory of mine that purports that there is a directly proportional relationship between how annoying a girl is and the amount of clothes she is wearing.

Basically, my hypothesis (technically it’s not a theory until I have a large bundle of documented facts to back it up) is that the more clothes any one girl wears, the more annoying she is. But if she takes off a few layers of clothes, she automatically becomes less annoying. Unfortunately I don’t have enough data to devise an exact mathematical formula to express this interaction. I am still collecting evidence from the field to back up my hypothesis and conclude my aforementioned formula. This is an important project to a cynical man like myself who firmly believes the mass majority of humanity was placed on Earth simply to annoy me. If I can find a mathematical way to make women less annoying, well then that’s just gravy. Suffice it to say, until I come up with that formula, I will continue to be on top of it.

This year, however, I am not choosing to focus large amounts of time and energy into a project that is not totally (or even partially) approved by any major scientific institution. This year, I’m focusing my efforts on something even more important: myself. Let’s be honest here, if I don’t look out for Number One, who will? So without further distractions from chicks wearing far too many clothes, here they are (in order of the number of beers I had to drink to come up with the resolution):

1. Write more, and do more serious writing
2. Get my life put together
3. Play more video games (seriously)
4. Wear pants more often

Ok, let’s just start out at number one. And this is my original resolution that I came up with before drinking any beer whatsoever. Occasionally I can come up with thoughts without involving alcohol in the processes. It just doesn’t happen very frequently. As much as I enjoy writing these blogs once a week (and I really do) and as good as it has been for me to force myself to be creative at least once a week, I need to do more. If I’m ever to truly reach my dream of writing for a living, this non-income producing column isn’t going to cut it in the long run.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to stop writing It’s Supposed to Be Funny (or the Privette Papers, or whatever you want to call it) in the foreseeable future. I just think that there are other projects that I need to work on if I’m ever to get something published, and more importantly, paid for. Because daddy needs some bacon, though I am willing to take that bacon in cash form. I’ll take actual bacon too, I’m not that picky. Hey, bacon is good stuff. Just as long as it’s none of that faux Canadian bacon. Do you realize that that stuff is actually ham? Is Canada really that much different from the US that they have to resort to trying to pass off ham as bacon?

Resolution number two is closely tied to the first one. I have been a huge bum ever since graduating from college. I avoid getting a real job and a real life like everyone else probably because I’m scared I’ll actually grow up. And let’s be honest, being a grown up sucks, there’s far too much responsibility involved. I just don’t see the point in settling down right now. But the fact remains, I can’t keep being a huge bum for the rest of my life. For one thing, it’s hard to pick up chicks when you’re a bum, even if their pants do come off readily.

My first resolution is to write more. My second resolution is to turn that writing into money. I need to quit being a pansy about rejection and start trying to get this stuff published. Or I could just win the lottery. I’d be cool with that too. I think I could survive a few years off of 100 million dollars or so. The only downside is that taxes on 100 million dollars are a real pain in the ass. The government really knows how to take the fun out of winning the lottery.

The third resolution I came up with was after about my forth beer of the night, but really, I could have come up with this vow without the help of my special muse. And yes, I am being serious. The problem is that I have far too many video games that have piled up that haven’t been beaten yet. If I’m ever going to get through all these games before I go out and buy more (and trust me, I will buy more, I’m just a whore like that) I need to start making it a priority to play games more often.

I only need one more dungeon to beat The Legend of Zelda, the Twilight Princess on the Wii. Also on the Wii I need to play through Red Steel, which I’ve barely even touched. For the Playstation 2 (even if I did win 100 million dollars in the NC state lottery, I still wouldn’t have enough money to buy the Playstation 3), I need to play more Guitar Hero 2, and I’ve recently acquired Final Fantasy XII, which I’m sure is going to absorb my soul. There’s also the remake of Final Fantasy III (originally an NES game) for my Nintendo DS. So many high quality games, so little time. And yes, this is important. It’s still one of my biggest regrets that I have yet to beat Super Mario Brothers 3 (you know the game for the NES where you get the raccoon tail and the tanooki suit).

Finally we come to fourth resolution: I really do need to wear pants more often. The problem is, I’ve been living by myself for just about a year now, and since there’s no one around for me to worry about, I tend to go without pants for extended periods of time. If there’s no one here, that’s not a big deal. But after about eight beers with my friends, I tend to get a bit… uncomfortable. I’m not saying that my pants come off after eight beers, but I do ponder the existential existence of my lower legging material. And to be perfectly honest, you probably don’t want to know any more than that. Sometimes, saying less really is more.

Well, there you have it. I look inside at my most ponderous and profound thoughts. Just try not to look too deep or read too much into it. Trust me, there’s not much there. There’s just an enormous empty feeling from not beating Super Mario Bros. 3. Seriously, what guy from my generation hasn’t beaten that game? These are the things that keep me up at night…

See, I told you not to delve too deep. Maybe next time you should listen to me.