Our New Year's Resolutions

For each hour we spend watching TLC shows about the heartbreaking, nightmare-fueling head deformities of gentle Pakistani teens, we'll spend an hour adding critically acclaimed Britcoms to our Netflix Watch Instantly Queue, which we'll totally get around to seeing right after we peek at just a couple minutes of the Animal Planet show about the little people who train pit bulls.

Now that Fox and Time Warner Cable have narrowly averted mutually assured destruction by settling their petty dispute, we'll take down IWillFirebombMyLocalTWOfficeIfIMissEvenOneSecondOfAmericanIdolYouGreedyMonsters.com, and think twice about hastily registering any such needlessly hostile URLs in the future.

Renting a Bangalore phone-bank to jam the lines on behalf of our favorite Idol contestant is probably not the sporting thing to do, so we resolve not to do that again this year, unless completely necessary.

We'll also do our best not to take Simon Cowell, in his potential last season steering the good ship Idol, for granted; we often weren't appreciative enough of the inimitable brand of nonsense-tinged boosterism Paula Abdul brought into our lives every year around this time, and now we've got all the Ellen DeGeneres we can handle. Lesson learned.

We're finally going to get started on the proposal for The Year Of Fingerbanging Grimly, our meditation on how each week of the Don Draper Fingerbang Threat Level mirrored the society-shaking events of a tumultuous 2009.

We resolve to resolve, resolutely, with regards to Hollywood things.

We resolve not to rush headlong into post ideas we foolishly think we can easily stretch to an even one-hundred bullet points just because we're coming off a brief end-of-year vacation, then peter out somewhere in the 30 range, especially when the concept was wearing pretty thin right around the late single-digits.

We've already broken at least five of these. Happy 2010, everybody.

Pages: 1 2 3 4