Hark! The Herald Angels Sing

I don't know why we do resolutions for New Years. Well, I do know; it is, after all, a new year, so in that regard it is certainly fitting. I just don't think January is any time of year to be enacting life-changing decisions supposed to improve one's quality of life, physical appearance, career, etc. If you are like me and most people I know, during the dire winter months of Northwest winters you live in a kind of waking sleep--a species of coma that just says, "Hang in there, buddy. I know this weather sucks and that it has rained for the past 47 days, but spring will be awesome. I promise."
In this state you are in no condition to pursue new-and-improved workout regiments and diets that eliminate all things but foods like "almond milk" and "fortified wheat barley." In fact, you need all the fat you can get if you are to make it through the harsh winter; there's a reason your body is telling you to nab a scone off the counter and curl up in a cave of pillows and blankets next to the hearth until the green-blossomed tips of the cherry trees awake from their slumber to bless the Earth with their glorious frangranced flowers and signal the beginning of a warmer climate to come.

This is what spring is all about: new beginnnings. So wouldn't it be more fitting, I ask, that we did our New Year's resolutions in spring, as opposed to the dreary depths of winter's frosty embrace? Why don't we make resolutions to begin anew when nature also is beginning anew; when the robins have returned and the bees are unfurling their tiny antennae and the caterpillar will is ridding itself of its frigid cocoon?

It is because we are a foolish people; we would have to be to make our most important decisions and resolutions on a night we have carefully reserved for the consumption of gross quantities of liquor. How many people do you know who wake up wearing an '08 party hat and sitting in an armchair with a half-empty bottle of Cook's on their lap that get up, dust off the sin, and head to the gym? And how many people in that same situation decide they are going to battle a hangover--a medieval, rogue-like hangover--by eating a balanced meal of tofu steak and freshly cut leeks? The answer is: no one. People generally spend the morning of New Year's day washing a penis off of their forehead and trying to figure out why they woke up in the laundry room with their pants around their ankles and a dog collar around their neck. A "New Year's resolution" is about the last thing on their minds.

Therefore, to honor the first day of spring--a glorious day heralded in by gleaming rays of sunlight that shone through the strait of Juan de Fuca as I made my way home from Haggar's foreboding land of the North to the glory that is our United States of 'Merica, I decided to make a new set of New Year's resolutions; a set that I will actually enforce; a set that was not conceived in direct relation to the consumption alcohol; and a set that will make Mother Nature proud to open the gate to her benevolent bosom and set forth the flora and the fauana that make spring in the Northwest a joyous time to be alive.

And I urge you all to do the same. Sinners repent!

-Boosh Clown

p.s. I'll post the resolutions tomorrow. I have to think of them first.