Today I’m on book tour in Dayton. Come see me? Please?
While I’m away I’m leaving you with Golden-Oldies, aka reruns. But they’re old enough that they’re almost new again. Sort of.
People keep asking me what my New Year’s resolutions are and I tell them that I don’t have any and then they get all pissy because they assume that I think I don’t need to change but it’s really just that I’m too bored with myself to invest any more time thinking about me, and also because “What are your new year’s resolutions?” is kind of code for “So tell me what you think is wrong with you.”
That’s why my new resolution for 2011 is to get into something so blatantly reprehensible that when 2012 comes I will have an obvious choice for what I need to give up next year and I won’t be sitting here trying to figure out which one of my many vices is the most obvious to everyone else. And then I’ll be all “This year I’m going to shoot up less heroin!” Or stop burning books. Or stop burning kittens. Or stop burning books about kittens. I haven’t really decided yet. Whichever thing seems more likely to have people remark about how brave I am, probably.
PS. You never realize how many terrible life-choices are in front of you until you think about how nice it will be to tell people you’ve given them up. This is probably why so many people are shooting up heroin right now.
PPS. OMG. I GOT IT. This year I vow to start shooting up kittens with heroin. It’s gonna be a brave, brave 2012.
UPDATED: As requested, I drew up some anti-kitten-heroin photocards that you could use to save money on birthday presents but no one bought any…
…so instead I made a whole different set of cards for people who want kittens to be on heroin…
But then it turns out that no one bought any of those either. Conclusion: Heroin-kitten awareness is at an all time low, probably because we don’t have a sexy spokesperson attached. Someone contact Neil Patrick Harris.