We start out fresh with resolutions,
most destined to fail, I fear,
in attempt to find solutions
that will tame the coming year.
When rolls around the Super Bowl
the leather Bible gathers dust,
and exercise machine pays toll
of neglect in growing rust.
Perhaps we plan too far ahead,
and cannot keep the ball in play
for so long, and should instead
resolve that just for this one day
we'll do our best to see them through,
all that we promised to do.
I have but one resolution, and that's to singlehandedly create a supply-chain crisis of Keystone Light beer.
Oh, wait. Maybe I shouldn't have
admitted said that.
I actually prefer Fosters ale.
Music from Chumbawamba, with the irrepressible song Tubthumping
Sylvia loves beer, as long as someone else is drinking it.