Me and the Bad Mother, we look forward to the New Year as a chance to reload 'em, smoke 'em, and wax our lances with the first tang of the New Year. It's a time for us to reflect ... yeah, like I remember this picture. Back in the day, we was hunting big grasshoppers by day, chomping mad puss-ay by night.

But like sands of the hourglass, so are the days of our lives. Each new year is a chance to make ourselves better people. I would like to share these hopes with you, our loving readers. Oh, and fuck you, each and every one.

In 1999, I resolve to be more cruel to the Irish.

I resolve that when I tell some sorry bastard that I'm gonna give him a ten-second head start, I use a stopwatch to count instead of just going "OneTwoNineTen-FIRE!" and then shooting him in the gaddam face.

And I will lose five pounds.

I resolve to coldcock each and every fucking DJ who plays that stupid, annoying Prince song.

I resolve to whack off in Nicole Kidman's hair.

But mostly, I resolve to get to know you, each and every one of you sweet, misguided people who've made our ongoing adventures possible. I resolve to make that "special" together time. I resolve to come to your house, and to crash on your couch. I resolve to screw your girlfriend as soon as your ass is in the bathroom, and if you try not to go, I'll just make you watch. I resolve to drink you out of house and home, steal your CDs and wreck your stereo. I resolve to bury you. Now get out of my face.

Whiskey! Now!

-Superbad