In any case…

I decree – you know, because I can and all – that this year shall be Year of the Yellow!

I don't know why. I don't know how.

Actually, that's a lie. I know exactly how. It shall be filled and loaded and jam-packed with yellow stuff, things, and all manner of curious entities.

Look at how luscious, how simple & homely the yellow looks from this nice chomped out piece of Banana Paddlepop (has anyone else noticed that Banana Paddlepops almost seem like they're being phased out and are harder & harder to find?). 

Why that Paddlepop would make a nice soothing icy cold wallpaper. A shame if you click on it, all you get is an image sized barely big enough for your iPhone. 

It's not just that though. Look at the other yellow things there are.

A Jelly Belly jellybean decided to wander into my life yesterday. It said "You there? What day is this?" and I quickly thought to say "Are you daft? It's Christmas Day" but didn't because:

1. I'd be wrong, and
2. Jellybeans shouldn't be able to speak.

So I quickly ate the evidence of talking jellybeans and went on with my day.

Still, it is a rather enticing colour is it not.

I'm starting my Year of the Yellow with a nice new pair of yellow drawn-on Converse that I bought yesterday. Find something yellow and celebrate the year under that great globular entity we call the sun.

If you don't… well you don't. Nothing bad happens. It's just an idea.

Nor am I sitting in a corner making Virgin Mary's with the drool that seeps from my mouth.

I'm at home.

In bed.

Asleep.

It was a nice New Year's Eve, spending it with Juliet and such.

But alas… no passion for Leigh.

Still… Bondi was invaded by the metrosexual last night.

Loads of guys, boys, and people who probably thought they were men only to be turned down by everything with breasts walking back from the beach. They wore yellow shirts, pink shirts, cyan shirts, bubblegum shirts, no shirts and at times I seriously thought that on any other day and in any other time & place, they'd probably punch the guy next to them for wearing the same clothes.

And there were lots of drunk people. I wandered past some hot French girls with stupid haircuts who couldn't find Bondi Junction. They were a 5 minute walk from it. They could have followed the large group of people making their way there like a slow moving tribe. So I told them to walk up there pretty much in a straight line… about a five minute walk… maybe they're in the Junction still trying to find the train station.

If you see a couple of hot French girls with haircuts that make you go "huh… why she just put jam all over her head and then stuck her skull in a lawnmower for a few minutes," you've found them. Point them in the right direction, would you? That'd be nice. 

Oh by the way: Happy New Year.

Happy 2008.

Here's for hoping to get laid… or at least getting a kiss this year. 

Earlier this week I was paying for groceries at Coles and when the cashier asked me if I had FlyBuys — their points card — I replied "No, but I suppose I should make it my New Year's Resolution and get one".

He smiled and kept a laugh inside. I could tell.

But that'll just get thrown under the pile like everything else. All those people who say they'll quit smoking, they'll lose weight, they'll resist the urge not to bludgeon their mother-in-law with something hard and heavy that isn't their cock… all of them will just get tossed aside and thrown under the bed never to be seen again.

But I have come up with a resolution that is entirely unique to me. It's something that I can do.  Sure, it'll be gradual… but isn't that always what it is?

Anyway, my resolution is…

…to stop being mean to myself.

I realised it as I was taking ages to buy my wallet the other day. Sure, it was going to cost me a bit more but I never spend on myself. Only on others. It's not the sort of thing I see myself getting engorged in. I'm not going to impulse buy and get as much as I can… it's just as example. I'll make fun of myself less and I won't tolerate people making fun of me anywhere near as often as it happens.

I'm really sick to death of people throwing insults and jokes every ten seconds at me just because they feel the need to keep themselves secure for some reason or another. It's one thing if I do it because it's me, but for others to do it… it shits me enough for how often it happens.

So I'll do it less to myself. I'll be nicer to myself. Maybe others will follow suit.