Ten New Year's Resolutions You Will Keep

1. Gain weight. You've already gotten a jump on things with those 3000 calorie holiday gutfests. Why pretend? Go with dark colors and vertical patterns and have some guilt-free hamburgers in 2010!

2. Go deeper into debt. You want more stuff. You know you want more stuff. Quit being scared, back a truck up to Best Buy and charge that sucker up the wazoo.

3. Spend more money. Who are we kidding? The only people who successfully save money are the ones whose joints go out more than they do. Spend it while you're still ambulatory, and stop worrying about the kids. They're not worrying about you.

4. Don't get a better job. In fact, do the opposite: become utterly invisible at the job you have. When they cut benefits or freeze salaries, duck your head and say nothing when others demand that something be done. Oh, something will be done, but not to you.

5. Whatever shape you're in is fine. Seriously. None of us has to walk to work or hunt to eat. We can take pills that will lower our cholesterol without all that sweating and leaving hamburgers out of the diet. Besides, round is perfectly acceptable as a shape.

6. Don't go back to school. Look at your current life. Now add a part-time college schedule to it, complete with a tuition fee that exactly matches that new flatscreen with Dolby digital surround. Scotch/rocks or Concepts of Economics (Vol.1)?

7. Drink more alcohol. Co-opt the wife with wine. Then, when the lightweight gets drunk, break out the Scotch and enjoy that new flatscreen of yours. That, or go jogging (giggle).

8. Smoke like a chimney. Whenever some smoke Nazi starts up about the dangers of second-hand smoke and how impolite and yada yada yada, ask him if he's traded in that SUV of his for a bike while you light up a Lucky Strike Unfiltered and blow pure carcinogens into his face.

9. Stay at home. If you want toilet paper hard enough to scrape paint, weird t.v., weirder food, and 36-hour poop/squirts, leave the country.

10. Don't volunteer. Drop your buck into the Salvation Army's bucket on your way out of Wal-Mart and you'll have bought yourself a clean conscience for another year.