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This is a bit premature, but I just wanted to wish everyone a Happy New Year while I’m sober here at the D.I.C. Trust me, I won’t want to do it tomorrow. So, yeah, like H.N.Y. and stuff!
One thing I will not be doing is reflecting on all the B.S. I encountered this year, or wishing everyone a sappy prosperous New Year. Have a happy new year. Not because I mean it, God knows I don’t want anyone other than myself to be happy, but it just sounds good. I will not encourage you to go for that gold this year. I don’t care if you get that promotion, that new home, or that engagement ring. You see, I want to be happy and prosperous and shit this year. I think it’s my turn, ya know? So whether not you are in a better place in 2004, I could give a rat’s ass unless it directly benefits me. We don’t do corny ’round these parts, trick, iz you smokin’?
For me, the wishes and reflection are bullshit, because you and I both know this is the way we should be thinking every day of the year. Why use January 1st as an excuse? Why do we resolve to quit smoking, pay off our credit and lose weight on this day? Why wait? Society tells us that the beginning of the year means a fresh start, but that’s just not true. And no, this is not one of my anti-tradition rants, I am just encouragiing people to be true to themselves and look inside. There is nothing stopping us from trying to improve who we are any other day of the year. You dig? Think about that, and resolve to be the fattest, smokingest, most in-debt son-of-a-bitch you can be. Resolve to be lazy and trifling. Make a promise to yourself that you will go an entire three weeks without wiping your shitty ass. Why? Because, whenever you make a New Year’s Resolution, chances are you’re lying any damn way, so why not resolve to be just as fucked up as we usually are? You know what we at nOvaSlim.com have to say to that kind of pomp and foolishness:
CHILE CHEEESE!
And now some additional holiday cheer from fellow blogger and realest Karsh of blackgayblogger.com.

2003 was a muthafucka. Say it with me. A muthafucka. But by the time you read this, it’ll be over, and you’ll have an arm’s length list of resolutions, and the local gyms and drugstores will be rubbing their hands together in greedy delight over your sudden burst of self-improvement.

Ain’t it grand?

If you ask me, this whole “being real” thing is a double-edged sword with most people. Isn’t being real meaning that you see the good and the bad, the thick and the thin, the ketchup and the mustard? Yeah, I’ve read Essence and some shit by Dr. Phil. But I also delve into a little self-deprecation every now and again. Isn’t being real being able to laugh at yourself? To recognize your faults and now that — hey, life ain’t gon’ revolve around every Tom, Dick and Tyrone and to hell with them if they think it will?

I’ve got a co-worker who has decided to wait to stop smoking until July. Why? Quoth her, “Because the patches will be too expensive in January, there’s too much candy in February, and everyone will be on outside patios at restaurants smoking until it’s too hot to want the extra heat.” Being a pessimist? Nah. Being real? Definitely. You wanna know why these things are called resolutions? Break it up, kiddies — re + solutions. Meaning the solution’s there, but it didn’t get done the first time. And isn’t the definition of insanity doing the same thing and expecting different results?

So twenty zero three is done and gone. Good riddance to thee. Sure, we’ll remember it, but we won’t live in the past. We’ll know that wishing and doing are just as natural to our complex little selves as bitching and moaning. And once we all realize that, our lives on this little blue orb will be a whole lot more enjoyable. 2004, bring it on bitch!

Thank you, Karsh.
So, again, I’d like to wish all of you a Happy New Year, and by “happy” I mean gay, like grab the new year by the nuts, hard, and show him who’s boss, girls!
SHAMELESS PLUG: “The Big Rocka Awards” at Rocka’s World.