New Year, New You

Yes, you.
Not me, of course. I'm splendid just the way I am.
What I'm speaking of is the need for YOU to make resolutions to improve how you deal with ME.
Some suggestions? But of course!

1. If you are elected or appointed to the legislative, judicial or executive branches of the U.S. government, you really ought to do the following:

--Abstain from sending smutty messages to pimply-faced teens (I mean, using your real initials...)
--Show up at a former president's funeral proceedings. Yes, ALL of them. Unless, of course, you've got some brush to clear in Texas...
--Don't make jokes unless you've got Seinfeld or Drew Carey on the payroll. Ray Romano, or worse, the dude who played his brother, will NOT suffice.

2. If you are in a position to be quoted by major news outlets, Don't Drink and Declaim, Beverage and Bloviate, or otherwise engage in In Vino Vilification of those you consider to be less human than you. (My apologies, therefore, for my 2005 rant against the aggressive squirrels at Bambina's park. Although in my defense, those f&*^%rs start all the rabies outbreaks in the world and it just needed to be said, Sugartits).

3. How about washing your hands after going to the bathroom? Every time. With Soap. Even if you only do Number One. It's one of the easiest ways to make the world a safer place, and I didn't even make you sit through a 90-minute powerpoint with pictures of melting polar ice caps to make my point. You owe me.

4. {With full credit to Jess [perhaps/not her real name? for the backstory]}, If you are going to go out without underwear for the purposes of having your vagina photographed, PLEASE PLEASE make sure said vagina is camera-ready. She once walked in on her 80 year-old grandmother and saw something no grandchild should see/no grandparent wants her grandchild to see. When she saw the photos of Britney Spears', um, fandango, her immediate thought was, "oh dear god! It looks 80 years old!" Not that there's anything wrong with your fandango looking just the way it does right now, in whatever condition it may be. We simply ask that you have an honest conversation with your hand mirror from that class you took in 1976, a close friend who won't stop returning your calls when you ask him/her to assess your parts, or your best friend Paris. Because as mortifying as it should be to finally and at long last have removed any shred of mystery, which used to be the lingua franca of the celebrity business, it's more mortifying to have someone look at a photo of your hoo-ha and ask, "Grandma?"

There. I think we're gonna have a good year.