This Is Where The Title Goes (New Years Post 2014)

So when I shouted, “Happy seven!”  My family was confused.  They were like, “What?  What do you mean?”  But I knew… I knew.

It’s pretty damn incredible.  And when Bishop said, “Did you mean 7 cause 2 divided by 14 equals 7?”  And that’s when I knew my genius superceded normal geniousity.

Get it?  No matter how you look at it, this year is 7.  The year of the lucky number.  Yeah, I know, numberology, blah blah blah.  I don’t care.  I know I’m onto something here.  Cause 2 plus 1 plus 4 is 7, and 14 divided by 2 is ALSO 7!  How about that shit?!  My family still says ‘No’… but it’s math.  You can’t fight it.  It’s, like, a fact or something.  Boobyah!

Last year was 6.  No duh.  I don’t know if that had anything to do with the suck level of 2013, but it was bad.  So this year, I came up with a brand new tradition.  It’s a really good one.

I showered.

Think about it.  I was showering with water, but it was also a symbolic showering.  Washing away that stank that was 2013, so I could start the year off fresh and squeaky clean.  Sure, my hair looked like a gnarled fricasee cause I forgot to blow it, but it was a clean gnarly fricasee.  Is that how you spell fricasee?  Frickasea?  Frickassy?  Okay.  That last one looks wrong.  I think there’s a silent letter in there somewhere.  Like a ‘P’.   Phrickassy.

I don’t like Counting Cars.  Dang it.  Put Adult Swim back on.  Josh 2.0 is okay.

So I started the year freshly bathed, and downing tasty tasty cips of orange juice, Peachtree, peach vodka, and a splat of Seaera Mist.  It makes it fizzy.  But I was totally trippin’, cause that peach vodka was fizzy too!  I shit you not!!!  I was like, “No way!!!”  Tasted good.  I had, like, 4 of them?  I was shooting for 7, cause more symbolisnm, but then I remembered I hate hanovers.  The thing, not the movies.  I love those movies.  I didn’t like the third one, where Zack bought that cute giraffe and then accidentally decapitated it on the freeway.  Oops.  Spoiler.  Don’t read that last part.

I should probably make some of those promises.  But a bad year hasn’t changed my position on them.  No point.  If you wanna change yourself, just do it.  Don’t set your self up for that disapointment in 3 weeks.  Don’t even tell me what it is you’re promising to do, cause jinx!  And then you will feel bad for fucking that up, and I will feel bad cause I witnessed you fucking it up.  That just sucks.

But I will make a change in myself this year.  I am gonna be nicer.  You might think I’m kinda nice, or too nice.  Sometimes, yes.  I am extremely pleasant.  I worked hard on that.  So now I’m gonna be even nicer.  Maybe by nicer I mean un-rude.  Like, I’m gonna stop cussing so much and shit.  So people will be less offended by my dialog.  I got this bitch.

But hey, check it.  I’m gonna be the next Mother Goose.  Look:

The family dog was taken down,
To buy a wig for a show clown,
But in the morning he was found,
Cause he snuck out of the house and was two blocks away with a poodle.

That’s not a resolution, for yo info.  I think that’s a limerick.  Copyright!  Just in case someone tries to get sneakly and steal it.  It’s part of a trilogy, so stay tuned for the second saga.  It gets good.

I gotta admit, I’m kinda tired.  I don’t think I drunk so much that I will get sick, but I really hope I don’t wake up with a bad head.  My hair looks better now, cause I fixed it.

So 2012 was not the end.  Ironically, 2013 left some of us kinda wishing it had been, though.  Those snarky Mayans.  They’re probably laughing at us now, saying we are idiots, cause we were so happy the world didn’t go boom, that we didn’t see that the world was about to go boom.  Really, what the hell was up with that?  I could not even sell plasma, it was that bad!

Well, screw you, 2013.  I didn’t want you to have my plasma anyway.  This year is 7, my friends.


Blowing my mind.


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