Why is it that when we wake up in 2012, we feel the need to necessitate the shattered dreams we had in the latter year with 800 mg of ibuprofen and 365 thoughts of what could have been? Sometimes you hit the bar, sometimes the bar hits you. That should be our NEW new years resolution.
When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, but now I’m a hot mess of a 20 something white American living in the best city on the planet, so I’m fortunate.
Who doesn’t like back rubs and swedish massages? Do you have lower back pain in your sciatic from carrying around the sins of 2011? Well, don’t fret, 2012 is here and its raw as a motherflower.
Everyone has a bucket, and everyone has a hole in it. And we’re alway looking for things to fill it. But really, its just you …., and me. Cus we’re together. Forever.
Having a three day holiday to ring in the new year is a treat, but please, we’re young, dumb and full of _____. Lets try to take ourselves a bit more seriously this year.
I understand that 2011 was the year of the i-phone and men wearing cardigan sweaters, but god, more people should work on Mondays.
In 2012, I’d like to stop eating at joints who feature open-faced bone marrow sammies and get sub par service from a hipster who should’ve clipped his fingernails last Tuesday. I feel suffocated from the mirage of flannel, Ron Paul one liners and the rock-a-billy haircuts. It’s so hip, its unhip and thats not hip. I just want Chipotle and for my “smartphone” to stop acting stupid and autocorrecting my thoughts.
So … like me, because I like you. 2011 was the year of the like. Lets make 2012 the year of the love.