imperti gustaque
resolution
January 3rd, 2006
I will admit (silently, to myself) when a topic is being discussed on which I am not qualified to comment. I will then deftly change the subject, and make no attempt at subsequent research.
I will shave off my scapegoatey beard and never offer unwarranted apologies to badgers. I will answer only to myself. I will also stop coming home from temp jobs saying “oowah, they treat me like a temp”. I am not “A Little Princess”, unless there’s a version where she gave her daddy malaria on purpose and asked to live in the garret.
I will not make a trophy of my acquaintances, direct or indirect. If I’d met Antony and the Johnsons, I would never be so vulgar as to name-drop. If I’d heard the music of Antony and the Johnsons before you, it wouldn’t make me Christopher fucking Columbus; and just because you’ve now heard them doesn’t mean they’re rubbish. You wouldn’t catch Sir Walter Raleigh turning down a tattie and a tab just because everyone else had one. Speaking of which, I’ve kept last year’s resolution of giving up giving up smoking.
I will not contrive to be the fascist dictator of my own humours. Every ha ha, boo hoo, kiss kiss and bang bang will be delivered with honesty, or not at all.
I will not allow empty resolve to make a chore of creativity or self-improvement. I have never painted more, or smoked less, because someone told me I should; quite the opposite. I’ve never creatively expressed myself less than I did when I went on a writing retreat, or when I was at art college. I don’t go to the toilet just to fart, and I’m not going to wave my paints around like a chimp. Scratch that: I do go to the toilet to fart, because I primly think it even more vulgar than name-dropping. Scratch that: I will put all my energy into farting if my brothers start a competition. I wish they would challenge me to a painting competition, instead.
Overall, this year I will try to be less hypocritical and more Hippocratic.
Paragraph 5, line 1. Thrrrrrrrrp.
New Year’s resolutions. Always a common one; go to the gym. Result; I turn up as usual to find the place utterly heaving. I know they’re going to quit in a week. They know they’re going to quit in a week. All they do is get in my fucking way.
Especially the ones that walk on the fucking treadmill. Not the fat guys; they’d do themselves damage by running on their first try and I applaud them for the effort I can see streaming down their face as they plod along. Just the women who plod along chatting to their gym partners, their voices betraying that they’re putting in no effort whatsoever. If you’re going to get on the fucking treadmill, at least move faster than you do when you’re sorting the fucking trolleys in Waitrose car park.
My new year’s resolution is… not to make any new year’s resolutions!!!1one
This joke was brought to you courtesy of the year 1826. Next week, why DID that chicken cross the road?
My major one was to draw something everyday. So far so good. Can I have a pat on the head now?
Of course you can. Go and lie underneath a cow.
That joke was brought to you courtesy of the year 1957.
I SO heard Anthony and The Johnsons before any of you lot.
I wish you were the only one to hear them.
Fine. I’ll keep them, and you can keep Sum 41.
Jamie’s dad invented the circle, you know. Don’t mess with him or you’ll end up with pi all over your face.
This joke was brought to you courtesy of the year 530 BC.
If your brothers challenge you to a farting competition- call me. I’ll girlishly listen from another room because i’m too much of a priss to admit that girls fart/burp/do anything crude, but that’s the kind of things you read about in magazines. I’ve never had the experience of siblings but it’d be nice to live vicariously.
I challenge you to a painting competition. I’m not any good but I can surely look that part.
You’re the best, Mrs. Rockets.
Isn’t Matt Mrs Rockets?
Well? I AM the best.
I’m not contesting that. It just seemed a bit of a non sequitur. As if the writer had an attention span I’d expect of an American teenager, for example.
You’re teh best, Mrs. Rockets.
Not far from the truth, really. Being i’m from South Florida and 18. Nice call.
If you ever visit South Florida (being Ft. Lauderdale Primarily) I think you’ll find it’s pretty Non sequitur in nature generally. However, I’ve yet to meet a SoFla resident, or any American, that says ‘teh’. Not even Ms. Hilton.
Good for you, Ms K. Some of these people are so sharp, they’ll cut themselves one of these days.
Already have, thanks. Several times.