Resovolutions

It's that time of the year again. You know, the first bit of the year, where we watch the government light the blue touch paper and stand well clear as several million dollars gets incinerated rather rapidly, turning the Sydney Harbour Bridge into a fire hazard.

And it’s at this time of year that we are supposed to earnestly promise not to be quite such a bunch of slackers as we were last year.

Rabid isn’t a big fan of New Year’s resolutions, primarily because we are a hopeless joke at keeping them. However, this year it was a little easier to come up with a list, if a little galling, because the nephew provided seven resolutions for us, proving it wasn’t such a good idea to get him his own laptop. Yeah, he’s still wondering how we accessed the UN’s One Laptop Per Child program, forcing us to explain that his excesses have turned Rabid Reseller into a virtual third-world zone.

On the surface his demands don’t seem unreasonable, but the fine print, made possible by the latest high-resolution inkjet printer and his youthful jet-fighter-pilot eyesight, reveal a much darker side. He expects Rabid to resolve only to drink after work. On Mondays. Which are also public holidays. In leap years. And even then we’re only supposed to drink beer. With low alcohol content. Of around zero.

What’s the message here? OK, so last year we did indulge in the odd drinkie or 13 after work. Sometimes. Oh, alright, most times. Look, it was a tough year. Even the judge agreed with us on that score. But we couldn’t convince her that operating at a loss was the same thing as community service. Later, we came to agree with her. Those old folks have more technology than our entire shop.

Item number two requires us to quit smoking. Say what? Rabid hasn’t smoked for 10 years! What’s in the fine print this time? As if! It’s not a crack pipe! It’s for, er, well, er, medicinal purposes. A gentle herbal mixture to soothe the nerves. Oh alright, busted again. No more whacky backy either. It’s going to be a long and boring year. He’d better not spoil any more of our fun.

Rabid resolves to give up wild women. Hah! That one’s pretty easy. It’s been a long time since Rabid met any wild women. Matter of fact, we can’t recall ever meeting any wild women. There was that girl with ... oops, this is a family newspaper. Anyway, easy to comply with this demand, unless there’s something in the fine print ... Whoa! We categorically deny leering at his girlfriends. What’s leering by the way and how did he find out anyway?

Resolutions four through seven are totally out of the question as they involve financing the nephew’s fantasies. Wages. Holidays. Sick leave. Superannuation. What a joker. He obviously hasn’t read the fine print in his own Workplace Agreement.

Well, Rabid agreed with it, even if he didn’t.

Gotta go! New year waiting!

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