That’s me, bitch-slapping 2011 to the curb where, if there is a God, it will be run over by an endless herd of confused, pissed-off, incontinent, irritable bowel suffering buffalo with elongated, oozing testicles and no sense of direction.
These were, above and beyond, the absolute worst 365 continuous days I have ever had to endure and I’ve never been so ready to slap a new calendar on my fridge in all my life and not just because it will hide those mysterious streaks that won’t go away no matter how many times I scrub them raw with a Windex/vinegar/DAMMIT DAMMIT SHIT BALLS DAMMIT WHAT THE HELL concoction.
Let’s hear it for a brand new shiny year filled with skyrocketing 401Ks, plummeting gas prices, awesome shoes, ULTA coupons that never expire, Anderson Cooper cell phone numbers in my Inbox and a new, easy FDA-approved method of getting rid of unwanted facial hair and husbands who spend $areyoufuckingkiddingme because they can’t keep their pants zipped.
Let’s hear it for fresh starts, new beginnings and a whole mess of magnificent happy!
Let’s hear it for a better run for all of us in 2012 and isn’t it nice that we’ll get 366 days to celebrate it instead of 365? I’m going to yell YOU BET YOUR SKINNIER, FIRMER, LESS CELLULITE-FUL ASS on that one because I’m an optimist.
Happy new year, everyone! May we find ourselves actually living these days instead of simply surviving them.
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