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In This Coming Year, I’m Giving Up Necrophelia.

                              The most time-honored New Year’s tradition that comes only secondary to making sure there is an animal/mineral/or vegetable around at the stroke of midnight for you to kiss on the lips, is the all-important New Year’s Resolution.   Humans as a species are indefinitely fallible, and are always trying to find opportunities to go forth seeking self-improvement and enlightenment.   Most of the time this involves a lot of drinking while watching Dr. Phil,  or reading books like Breathing Oxygen: For Dummies”.  It’s always a good to continue on a path towards seeking self- improvement, because this desire is a thirst that keeps us young, and keeps us from slowly deteriorating into grumpy old men (or women) that sit out on the porch swing yelling at kids to get the hell off our lawns.

                              So I figured this year that a public display of my own personal resolution list would do two different things:   1) It would show each and every one of you that even though I dance like an absolute Australian dream on the Thunder From Down Under Stage, I still have real life issues; and 2) It’s hard to go back on these promises once you’ve made it really obvious and public as to what your intentions are.   Let’s say, for instance, that this year you made the decision to give up something cold turkey, like jerking it madly and uncontrollably to Golden Girls re-runs.   You never mentioned this resolution to a soul, and chances are that you could stay strong on this path for a while, but once you start to eventually crack you will end up doing Google Image Searches for Racy Bea Arthur Pixxors”, and you’ll be right back off the wagon again.   You never mentioned this debilitating addiction to anyone else, and so you only had yourself to disappoint. There’s only so long you can physically go before you catch a whiff of Ben-Gay and you are off to the races like old times.  

       Free Porn!

Hot like a seventy year old fire!


                        That, and maybe through my guidance and self-admittance of faults, maybe I can lead you to some ideas of your own to make yourself better this year.   There’s only one 2013, so going into it positively and proactively is always going to be your best bet.   That is, unless you are the kind of person who wears a lot of black eyeliner and listens to lots of Dashboard Confessional.   In that case, you’re on your own, you poor, poor misunderstood soul.

1)           Big Commercial New Year’s Eve Parties Are Goat Shit:   These parties are only going to be your thing if you have a hard-on for standing in lines and not getting drunk.   Last year, I went to the Hyatt Hotel’s huge New Year’s party.   These are great parties to attend if you want to be a sharp-dressed man surrounded by other sharp-dressed people behaving like complete assholes.   Let me sum this up for you:

* Price to get in is around $125 a person…

* After that, you stand in line to check in….  

*Then you stand in line to check your coat….  

*Then you stand in line at an ATM…

*Then you stand in line to buy carnival tickets to trade for drinks….  

*Then you stand in line to get drinks….  

*Then your phone gets stolen when you leave it in the pisser….

*Then, once you have your tiny 3oz rum and Coke in hand, you stand in line to get into the big conference clubbing” rooms…  

*And everyone around you is just as irate as you are…  

*There’s lots of fun to be had if you can’t stand yourself and/or hate the universe in general….  

This year I’m staying at home for a real party that allows drinking.   There’s always a party in my pants, even when I’m not present.

2)           I Want To Upgrade To Big-Kid Cellular:   I’m so sick of Shit-It, It’s-Cricket.   This is almost a constant lament of mine. I get so absolutely frustrated with my giant brick of junk that, on a good day, gets service on occasion and has a battery life of 20 minutes.   I like to call it Cellular Roulette” whenever anybody tries to call me.   My little brother just got the sexiest new LG phone, it’s got all sorts of bells and whistles and has the bitchinest HD screen, making my cellular inferiority complex that much worse.   After using my phone, my screen will leave a black streak on the side of your face when you use it from me constantly blacking out the Cricket” logo on the top of the faceplate with a Sharpie.

3)           I Need To Upgrade All Of My Tech:   It’s hard to be a journalist with my current getup. Just like my archaic Fred Flintstone cell phone, most of my other technology is really outdated as well.   I feel like a rusty ass Citroen merging at 15 mph onto the Autobahn, pissing off everybody. I have lots of resolve in getting a new laptop, new camera, new software and new hardware for photoshopping as well. Lately, I just can’t use my desktop computer plugged into my 60′ HDTV anymore because anytime I try to type on it gives me vertigo. I will have to dip into my savings fund, known as Thanks for the tax refund, Sam”.      

4)           My New Homemade Get-Rich-Quick-Gimmick: Two words people, Mortal Kondoms.

5)            I Need A Hyphenated Name On Facebook: I need to get with the times and get my name hyphenated so I can be hip and cool and in pace with everyone else. I like to think of hyphenated names as being more accurately described as I Really Love You Honey, But I Am Still Keeping My Last Name Involved In Case Dreamy Biff From High School Tries To Look Me Up Online”. Hopefully I can go by Teh Ben-Gozer or Teh Ben-Wen (Oh snap! I just Afflecked myself!).

6)           Contact Westwood College To Get My Dog Lawyer Degree:  I’m serious. People need lawyers to settle disputes between each other, and people need lawyers to settle disputes between each other and their dogs. You need to get parental custody of your schnauzer? I work for cheap and I win the judges over with my charming personality. I win mostly because the judges assume I have special needs. I need more clients and I’m working on my business card as we speak.  

7)           Plan for an F.O.C. Reunion Tour (ZOMG SPOILER!): Yeah, wouldn’t that be grand? It’s in the works, but we need to find out if Gary ever got his hearing back. We also need to figure out if he ever learned how to play guitar. He’s picked up sign language but it might cause confusion onstage if we don’t understand him because we as a group barely speak English, let alone understand complicated hand signals.  

8)           This Year I Plan To See Into the 4th Dimension On St. Patrick’s Day:  Irish drink, Irish jig, Irish puke. Rinse, Repeat. That’s how every holiday should be.

9)           I Need To Find A Black Chalk Retailer: Anybody know how to get into the street art festival?   I want to give it a genuine attempt this year. But first I need to get a hold of some black chalk, the hardest of all colors to find. I lack the patience to draw those crazy perception drawings of caves swallowing people on the sidewalk, but I can draw one seriously bitchin’ naked Darth Vader.

10)     Vegas, More Of: I didn’t go to Las Vegas ONCE this year, which I am using as a baseline for describing how badly my year went overall. You just can’t go a year without getting at least once escaping to Adult Disney Land. We all need that special getaway to blow off steam, lose a lot of money, drink enough Everclear to start having an allergic reaction at the blackjack table, and skip merrily down Fremont St. with giant balloon dicks on our heads.  If you don’t have those diversions and aspirations, then you just aren’t living life to the fullest.

11)     I Hope To Go To Lots More Concerts This Year: I got to see two national acts this year. They were both absolutely amazing, but to genuinely consider myself enough of an audiophile, I to need to go to more of them. Bonus!   At my age, when I’m in the mosh pit, you stand a 50% chance of my colostomy bag coming loose and blasting open on your face. I’ve been waiting a long time to have this competitive edge.

12)     Starting My Own Love/Dating Column On Groovey.Tv: Groovey has personally told me if I even attempt this, he’s going to revoke my administrative clearances. I don’t know why. I have lots of experience with dating sociopaths, ladies on house arrest, and women who are genetically predisposed to dating extras of the Lollipop Guild. I’m pretty much the Leslie Nielsen of Dating. People can really benefit from my advice. At the very least, I hope to program a GrooveyDating beta that can help you find lifelong love, as long as your standards aren’t too high.

 This was my 2012.

This was my 2012.

There’s my little list of things I’m going to try to improve on this year.   Notice I did not touch my favorite vice; drinking. There’s only one way to pry this 40 of Schlitz from my hands, and that involves killing me and stealing my booze. I hope all of you will take this initiative and try to genuinely improve yourselves in the coming year. Maybe you should be nicer to each other on the internets. Maybe you should try to not leave racist comments on Taylor Swift YouTube videos. But I must implore you, at the very least, stop sharing terribly photoshopped jokes on social media sites. Sharing a misspelled 40 year old joke with all your friends and family is sadder than a Golden Girls marathon on Nick at Nite with no hand lotion available.

Slainte, my friends!                                              

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About The Author

Teh Ben is a Denver-based author and World Champion of Duck Hunt (1986). He also has many works of fan fiction on various websites detailing the sexual relationships of the ThunderCats. When not writing, he can be found in front of his television holding a Zapper one centimeter from the screen.

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