12. Have a torrid one-night stand with a street mutt.
11. Try to understand that the cat is from Venus and I am from Mars.
10. I will no longer be beholden to the sound of the can opener.
9. Circulate petition that Leg Humping be a juried competition in major dog shows.
8. Call PETA and tell them what that surgical mask-wearing freak does to us when no one is around.
7. Take time from busy schedule to stop and smell the behinds.
6. Hamster: Don’t let them figure out I’m just a rat on ‘roids, or they’ll flush my ass.
5. Always scoot before licking.
4. Grow opposable thumb; break into pantry; decide for MYSELF how much food is *too* much.
3. Get out of the castle more, maybe swim counter-clockwise this year.
2. January 1st: Kill the sock! Must kill the sock! January 2nd – December 31: Re-live victory over the sock.
AND the Number 1 New Year’s Resolutions Made by Pets…
1. I will NOT chase the damned stick unless I see it LEAVE HIS HAND.
*I will try to figure out why I “really” need 12 e-mail addresses.
*I will stop sending e-mail to my wife (husband). A phone call every now and then would be appreciated
*I resolve to work with neglected children — my own.
*I will answer my snail mail with the same enthusiasm with which I answer my e-mail.
*I will stop sending e-mail, ICQ, Instant Messages and be on the phone at the same time with the same person.
*I resolve to back up my 12GB hard drive daily…well, once a week…okay, monthly then…or maybe… at least once a year
*I will spend less than one hour a day on the Internet – This, of course, will be hard to estimate since I’m not a clock watcher.
*I will stop checking my e-mail at 3:00 in the morning… 4:30 is much more practical since my friends overseas already had time to answer me by then.
*When I hear a funny joke I will not reply, “LOL… LOL!”
*I will read the manual… just as soon as I can find it.
*I will think of a password other than “password.”
*I resolve… I resolve to… I resolve to, uh… I resolve to, uh, get my, er… I resolve to, uh, get my, er, off-line work done, too!
Are you sick of making the same resolutions year after year that you never keep? Why not promise to do something you can actually accomplish? Here are some resolutions that you can use as a starting point:
1. Gain weight. At least 30 pounds.
2. Stop exercising. Waste of time.
3. Read less. Makes you think.
4. Watch more TV. I’ve been missing some good stuff.
5. Procrastinate more. Starting tomorrow.
6. Not date any of the Baywatch cast.
7. Spend more time at work, surfing with the T1.
8. Take a vacation to someplace important: like, to see the largest ball of twine.
9. Not jump off a cliff just because everyone else did.
10. Stop bringing lunch from home: I should eat out more.
11. Not have eight children at once.
12. Get in a whole NEW rut!
13. Start being superstitious.
14. Personal goal: bring back disco.
15. Not wrestle with Jesse Ventura.
16. Not bet against the Minnesota Vikings.
17. Buy an ’83 Eldorado and invest in a really loud stereo system.
18. Get the windows tinted. Buy some fur for the dash.
19. Speak in a monotone voice and only use monosyllabicwords.
20. Only wear jeans that are 2 sizes too small and use a chain or rope for a belt.
21. Spend my summer vacation in Cyberspace.
22. Not eat cloned meat.
23. Create loose ends.
24. Get more toys.
25. Get further in debt.
26. Not believe politicians.
27. Break at least one traffic law.
28. Not drive a motorized vehicle across thin ice.
29. Avoid transmission of inter-species diseases.
30. Avoid airplanes that spontaneously drop 1000 feet.
31. Stay off the MIR space station.
32. Not worry that the Y2K bug will cause the end of the world.
33. Get wired with high-speed net connections at home.
34. Not swim with pirhanas or sharks.
35. Associate with even worse business clients.
36. Spread out priorities beyond my ability to keep track of them.
37. Wait around for opportunity.
38. Focus on the faults of others.
39. Mope about my faults.
40. Never make New Year’s resolutions again.
*I will not play tug-of-war with Dad’s underwear when he’s on the toilet.
*The garbage collector is NOT stealing our stuff.
*I do not need to suddenly stand straight up when I’m lying under the coffee table.
*I will not roll my toys behind the fridge. I must shake the rainwater out of my fur BEFORE entering the house.
*I will not eat the cats’ food, before or after they eat it.
*I will stop trying to find the few remaining pieces of clean carpet in the house when I am about to throw up.
*I will not throw up in the car.
*I will not roll on dead seagulls, fish, crabs, etc.
*I will not lick my human’s face after eating animal poop. “Kitty box crunchies” are not food.
*I will not eat any more socks and then redeposit them in the backyard after processing.
*The diaper pail is not a cookie jar.
*I will not wake Mommy up by sticking my cold, wet nose up her bottom end.
*I will not chew my human’s toothbrush and not tell them.
*I will not chew crayons or pens, especially not the red ones, or my people will think I am hemorrhaging.
*When in the car, I will not insist on having the window rolled down when it’s raining outside.
*We do not have a doorbell.
*I will not bark each time I hear one on TV.
*I will not steal my Mom’s underwear and dance all over the back yard with it.
*The sofa is not a face towel. Neither are Mom & Dad’s laps.
*My head does not belong in the refrigerator.
*I will not bite the officer’s hand when he reaches in for Mom’s driver’s license and car registration.
Take twelve, fine, full-grown months, see that these are thoroughly free from all old memories of bitterness, rancor, hate and jealousy; cleanse them completely from every clinging spite: pick off all specks of pettiness and littleness; in short , see that these months are freed from all the past; have them as fresh and clean as when they first came from the great storehouse of Time.
Cut these months into thirty or thirty-one equal parts. This batch will keep for just one year. Do not attempt to make up the whole batch at one time (so many persons spoil the entire lot in this way), but prepare one day at a time, as follows:
Into each day put twelve parts of faith, eleven of patience, ten of courage, nine of of work (some people omit this ingredient and so spoil the flavor of the rest), eight of hope, seven of fidelity, six of liberality, five of kindness, four of rest (leaving this out is like leaving the oil out of the salad, don’t do it), three of prayer, two of meditation, and one well selected resolution. If you have no conscientious scruples, put in about a teaspoonful of good spirits, a dash of fun, a pinch of folly, a sprinkling of play, and a heaping cupful of good humor.
Pour into the whole love ad libitum and mix with a vim. Cook thoroughly in a fervent heat; garnish with a few smiles and a sprig of joy; then serve with quietness, unselfishness, and cheerfulness, and a Happy New Year is certain.