Happy New Year to all the Grumpy Chumpys and Slap-Happy Chappys from the Offices of I, Asshole. Today I am in the latter camp, because I was given the gift of a nap. After waking up at 7:30 to rain that sounded like needles being thrown against our window, I went back to sleep at 9:30 and slept until 12:30 BITCHES! I feel just like the irresponsible suburban teen ingrate I once was, instead of the irresponsible stay-at-home-mom ingrate I am now.

My companion took the babies out to a video store death march while I indolently slept, and he mentioned he saw many hungover Walk-of-Shamers out, and that one woman was wearing purple feathers, though he didn’t say where or how they were being worn. The view out our window this afternoon features many unfortunate fuckers moving, which was us last December 15.

Last night we put chairs on our patio and watched them blow up the Space Needle. It was kind of wack this year, with a bunch of gaps in the timing, and then the cloud of smoke obscured the end, because the wind wasn’t moving. This year there were people in the street below us with pot-and-pan drums, as opposed to last year when there were shots fired from the A-1 Motel. Of course there was the obligatory woman in the street going, “Woo, I’m drunk!” Her mating call was unanswered and she went back into her house alone, tooting her noisemaker forlornly.

Later today I hope we will all go out for our traditional New Year’s Walk, which is cold and fun, and kicks off the exercise resolution I make every year.

Resolutions, 2006:

1. Exercise! Not more, just enough. I make this one every year and I haven’t disappointed myself yet.
2. Write more! I need to get back into fiction, and ridiculousness, and get this blog back to its roots, which is shamelessly entertaining people idiotically.
3. A PNW’ed every Friday. Because the world needs more bad, illegible comics, and I need my unitorn art therapy.

That’s probably about all I can resolve, since some days I don’t even get dressed or comb my hair until noon. Here’s to a year of not being in labor for 47 hours or getting divorced.

This will be a good year or there will be Hell Toupee.