
Why, hello there, patient readers. Sorry I haven’t answered your letters recently. I’ve been busy, fighting some paternity suits from my totally unrelated chain of sperm banks and fertility clinics. Needless to say, I’ve got a lot of unhappy mothers to accuse of postpartum depression under oath. (Not sure what the legal defense is against allegedly cuckolded dads is, though.)
Anyway, it’s a new year, which means it’s time for the same old boring resolutions. So, if you haven’t quit quitting smoking yet — which odds and these Camel dollars say otherwise — then congratulations! You’ve made it over the hump: one week. Your body is no longer addicted to nicotine. Technically.
However, there’s just one minor obstacle to get over: the rest of your life. Continue reading Take it from Dr. Snee: You say you want a resolution



While I’m certainly glad to see more people writing thanks to the advent of blogging, twittering and other terms that were previously symptoms of pleurisy; whereas I am also elated to say goodbye to the biggest waste of a decade since the 1460s (was there any good music that decade?); and because I look forward to the Twenty-Ten future, I am officially sick of all retrospectives about this and any other decade from here on out.