Okay, that’s another year come and gone (much like Herman Cain’s political career) and it’s time to reflect on what I’ve done. So give me a moment while I look back at my New Year’s resolutions for 2011.
Plant more beets. Check.
Unleash the evil that is Rebecca Black on an unsuspecting world. Check.
Get satellite TV. Done.
Track down my birth parents and burn down their house. Yep.
Just chill. Tried it once; didn’t take.
Record creepy, obsessive YouTube video confessing my love for Emma Stone. Yeah but Jim Carrey beat me to it.
Build something immense out of Popsicle sticks. Yep.
Occupy something. Yes.
Post pics on Anthony Weiner’s junk. online Check.
Tell Netflix where they can stuff it. Sh-yeah.
Send Princess Beatrice my Cthulhu hat design. Mmm-hm.
Expose Arnold’s web of lies. You bet.
Give away 1/3 of my estate to the Knights Templar. Yes.
Knock up some trailer trash and blame it on Bieber. Uh-huh.
Buy all 52 DC #1s. Sigh – yeah.
Put something in James Franco’s drink right before the Oscar telecast. You betcha!
Wear more paisley. Check.
Pepper spray some jerks at a Black Friday event. Check.
Create a portal from my linen closet to the Cheesecake factory. Sort of. Yeah.
Make the USPS worthless and ineffectual. Almost there.
Convince some religious zealot that the Rapture is coming. Heh heh, yeah.
Sleep with female stars of movie “Bridesmaids.” Mostly (Dammit, McCarthy, why must you be the sole holdout?!).
Sacrifice a homeless drifter to my vengeful pagan god and pray for the decimation of my enemies. Check.
Put an end to that abomination of a marriage between Kim Kardashian and Kris Humphries. Yes, thank goodness.
Start online petition to bring back “H8R.” Yep.
Get a clue. Yo.
Spend an entire weekend playing The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim. Done that.
Mind control Rick Perry & make him say something stupid. Hoo boy, yeah.
Buy stock in Apple; sell stock in Apple. Check.
Get busy living or get busy dying. Finally.
Take these broken wings and learn to fly again and learn to live so free. Yes (thank you, Mr. Mister).
Take egomaniac Neil Patrick Harris down a few pegs by having him star in a really bad movie with animated characters. Check.
Make sure America never hears the name Charlie Sheen ever again. Damn. Almost. Oh well – nobody’s perfect.
It was a busy year as you can tell. Hope yours was fruitful. Or at the very least relatively free of the kind of crap that makes you want to put your fist through a wall. Maybe I’m getting old but sometimes I think that’s the most you can hope for.
Sparky MacMillan was once a Basque herder.