Life is precious, so you’ve got to use it wisely. Take me, for instance. I spend a lot of my time thinking about how great the Muppets are. That’s time well spent. However, one way we waste a lot of time each year is going through the motions of a New Years resolution. Let’s face it: by late February, you’re gonna break your vow – so that’s a month and a half down the drain. Don’t worry, because my new years resolution is to obliterate yours before it even starts.

If you resolve to lose weight, I’ll be right beside you with a Kit-Kat bar and a jar of Olive Garden Alfredo Sauce. Come on. You’re not gonna lose those pounds. You’ll buy a NordicTrack, use it for two days, then unlock its full potential as a total-body dust gatherer under the bed. Join a gym? For about a week, until you rightfully complain that gyms are full of assholes who are staring at you funny. And let’s not forget the fad diet you’ll live your life by, read in Newsweek that it’s bad for you, then promptly dump. Health problems solved!

If you resolve to quit smoking, I actually don’t have to do anything. Nicotine will do my job for me! Apparently only 2.5% of smokers successfully quit. Who can blame the other 97.5%? Who wants to trade-in a cool cigarette habit for a lame addiction to patches? Same thing with drinking less. Sure, you could go to AA meetings, or spend AA night vomiting whiskey sours in jail. I think option number “b” sounds a lot more fun.

Am I saying you’ll never be able to lose weight or land your non-shitty dream job? No, but it takes more than a decisive New Years whim to accomplish these hefty, life changing goals. “Starting tonight, on the final day of the Gregorian calendar, I’m totally gonna stop doing heroin!” I say it’s better to keep doing heroin than make a half-assed attempt to quit. If you’ve already failed, then decide later to quit for real, you’ll have the weight of your previous failure on your back. (If you also resolved to lift weights, then you’re really screwed.)

So don’t bother with New Years resolutions this year, because I’m gonna slap the diet pills out of your hand. I’m gonna slice up your yoga mat and send a lifetime supply of Marlboros to your house – or if need be, directly into the bedroom you locked yourself into. That is, of course, unless you really mean it this time.