New Years Resolutions

New Years Resolutions.

Quit rolling your eyes. I know I’m not the first nor will I be the last person to blog about New Years resolutions but like, come on, you didn’t expect anything “a-typical” from this bitch, did you? The following are a list of resolutions I have absolutely no intention to actually follow. Don’t judge me, at least I have the balls to admit I’m not gonna follow them unlike every woman in the entire world who promises to lose weight, exercise more and eat healthier right after they run through In-N-Out for dinner tonight because they just “didn’t have time” to cook a healthy dinner for their family. I get points for being self-aware, k? Perf. As I was saying. The res’:

1. Stop using so much god damn conditioner.
I don’t know if you know me, and I’m assuming most of you don’t, but I have a lot of hair. And when I say I have a lot of hair I mean I have A LOT of god damn hair. I just saw Tangled for the first time and like, the entire time that little cutie was lugging her hair all around, tying it in knots and throwing it over her shoulder, I just kept thinking how much I can relate. Yeah, I said it. It’s Rapunzel-like. It’s thick, it’s long (that’s what he said) and it’s curly as SHIT so when it comes shower time, the shampoo-to-conditioner ratio is like 1:365. That’s right, I probably use a years worth of conditioner in one shower. I probably buy three or four jumbo size bottles of conditioner for every one normal size bottle of shampoo I use. And it’s been a thing my entire life. My parents roll their eyes to this day whenever I come home to visit and I ask them to buy a thing of conditioner when they stop at the market on the way home. And when they walk in with the regular size bottle of conditioner and I’m staying for more than three days I quietly laugh in my head. It’s pretty outrageous. But seeing as I only wash this lion’s mane every other day and only brush it when it’s wet, can you imagine how tangled thing thing gets?? By the second day I can barely run my hand through my own hair. And don’t give me any of that “No More Tears” Johnson & Johnson detangling bullshit spray because that shit DOES NOT WORK. So, after spending the better part of 21 years trying to figure out the least painful way to detangle my hair, the best (and only) solution is to use, literally, a handful of conditioner on my hair, let it sit for five minutes, then wash it out. So maybe I can make a conscious effort to use “just a quarter sized amount” like my dad reminded me EVERY TIME I took a shower when I was younger (sorry for not listening, pops).

2. Stop being such a gay man.
Alright, I can’t help it if glitter is my favorite color, I secretly love show tunes and I get star struck around my favorite drag queens from Rupauls’ Drag Race.  I can’t help it if I love the company of a beautiful gay man who also loves the company of a beautiful gay man. I can’t help it if I have 25 episodes of Will and Grace on my DVR and every time I watch it, all I do is compare myself to Grace and long to be besties with Jack McFarland. I can’t help how I am. I live by Mother Monster’s mantra. The gays have been a consistent part of my life forever. I’ve always had gay friends and people even refer to me as their favorite “hag” (which I totally hate, by the way. I prefer the term fruit fly). I don’t know what it is about me. I mean like, stereotypically, fat girls are always surrounded by gays because the gays don’t look at you like straight boys do, and I heard somewhere once that guys only have friends that are girls because they’re “not nows” or “maybes”. But I’m not your typical fat gurl. I’m loud and obnoxious and outgoing so maybe that’s what the gays are attracted to (okay, it might be all the animal print and sparkly eye shadow) but enough trying to figure it out. I wouldn’t say I’m constantly surrounded by gays as of late. I mean my best friend is gay and other than him I have a gay in every area code that I frequent, but I wouldn’t say my time spent with the gays hinders me from meeting hot straight men. Everyone who knows me well enough always tells me I’m a gay man trapped in a woman’s body but like, let’s break that down for a sec. Isn’t a gay man (the flamboyant ones, the kind I’m talking about) just an effeminate man? A girly man, to be less PC about it? So if I’m “acting like a gay man” doesn’t that just mean I’m acting like a girl? And isn’t that, as a girl, the right thing to do? YEAH, so fuck you all.

3. Stop watching so much crap television.
Welp, I got a brand new 40-inch HD TV with free HD for a year for Christmas so that is definitely not happening.

4. Be more of a classy fucking lady.
The jig is up, I cuss like a god damn sailor. I really and truly have a foul mouth. And to match my utterly offensive vile language, I also have a filthy mind. Any moment I can throw in a “that’s what she/he said”, I do it, I think any time is a good time for a dick joke and I just taught my 10-year old brother how to play The Penis Game.  I had a friend who was the exact same way and she believed us having such dude humor made us more appealing to other guys. I haven’t exactly proven that theory yet, but fuck it. Either way. My mom always told me that cussing wasn’t lady like but I’ve found that I really just haven’t found a better way to express myself without using the word “fuck” (or any variation of it) in a given situation. But I guess, when it really comes down to it, if someone can’t accept me and my foul language, they’re not worth my fucking time.

5. Stop judging sorority girls at school.
Hahahahahahahahaha. You and your bleach blonde hair, matching tote bags and upside-down sailor salutes are so annoying that I will literally inconvenience my walk around campus to avoid the Greek showcase in the quad. I’m not even gonna pretend to wanna do this one in the new year.

6. Make out with the Allstate Mayhem guy.
This is the only one on the list I actually plan to attempt to fulfill. Suck it!

Happy 2012 bitches! Let’s all hope we stay alive long enough for ya’ll to read all the funny shit I think up in the coming months.

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