Doubtless the weak-minded and misguided amongst you have succumbed to making new year's resolutions, perhaps having been battered into submission by a combination of weight gain, overspending and post-festivity existential angst.
Despite being infamously weak-minded and misguided myself, I am of the opinion such acts of self-delusion are as useful as sunglasses on a mole. That said, I have deigned to join in the exercise, if only so you don't feel overly silly.
Not knowing where to start, I consulted that great Oracle of knowledge, the internet, soon stumbling across a handy list of the top 10 new year's resolutions.
1 Lose Weight: My addiction to porcine flesh is legendary. A major factor in my decision to shamelessly beg Mrs Emissions for her hand in marriage was her father's skill with a ham, a talent he has displayed at every available opportunity this Christmas. My belt is consequently stretched to potentially lethal levels. Anyone venturing within 15 feet of the buckle is in mortal danger of having the eye taken out of their head. So the pounds must be shed. If nothing else, it'll save petrol. The Duchess, bless her svelte little haunches, is getting on in years. Fuel efficiency was low on the list of priorities when the Bavarian boffins who created her were weaving their magic. Hauling my lardy butt about is playing havoc with her 32-year-old engine. Not to mention my wallet.
2 Stick To A Budget: Shedding the poundage will slake the Duchess's thirst and enable me to squirrel away a few spondoolicks. Not enough, sadly, to satisfy the constant nagging in my soul for a BMW E30 M3 Sport Evo. Must resist
3 Reduce Debts: Luckily, the Duchess is mine. All mine. Nary nut nor bolt does the bank own. Assuming I don't plough her into a wall, she won't be declining in value for the foreseeable future either. In fact, the beauty of bangernomics means she's gone so far down the depreciation trough she's now grappling her way up the other side.
4 Enjoy More Quality Time With Family And Friends: To free up some time, I could either chuck an illiterate underachieving monkey with no concept of human humour a few handfuls of peanuts to write this column for me, or I could spend less time polishing the Duchess's bits and getting the brake dust off her wheels with a toothbrush. Nobody would notice if I did the former, whereas I'd never live it down were I to venture forth into decent society with a filthy old German. Time to hire a simian simulator.
5 Find My Soul Mate: In human terms, I found her years ago. Married, reproduced. Job done. In vehicular terms, I did it too. But then I went and sold her back to the chap I bought her from. Crikey, I miss the Bavarian Princess.
6 Quit Smoking: Did that too. The Cuban economy is creaking under the strain. Poor Fidel has taken to the bed with the stress of it. The Duchess, on the other hand, hacks like a Chinese miner.
7 Find A Better Job: Cross that one off pronto. What could be better than entertaining you wonderful people on a weekly basis? More importantly, where else could I vent with such furious anger without being locked up?
8 Volunteer And Help Others: Hmm. Not really my thing. Methinks this list-making exercise is starting to fall asunder.
9 Get Organised: Hardly. I have trouble matching my socks in the morning and remembering where I work, never mind actually achieving anything of note.
10 Get Real: Since I started writing this, I've had a ham, bacon and crackling sandwich, a cream doughnut, two cigarillos and an hour slavering over photos of vintage beemers on the internet.
Time to face facts. Some things just aren't meant to be. By this time next year, I could well be fat, broke and lonely. But at least I'll have a nice car.
