15 Realistic Resolutions For The Failure In All Of Us

Unrealistic resolution: This year I will eat responsibly and lose weight.
Realistic resolution: This year I will continue to follow the same highly ineffective diet I have practiced for the past several years. My breakfasts will consist of a yogurt, banana, and the best of intentions. For lunch, I will have a salad, an apple, and sneak a bite of a cupcake I found in the office break room. For dinner, I will eat a blooming onion with my bare hands, followed by a bag of Funyuns, a Denny’s All-American Slam, four peanut butter cups, and a six-pack of Budweiser.

Unrealistic resolution: This year I will learn a new hobby.
Realistic resolution: This year I will be forced to abandon another cherished hobby, leaving it for dead like a lame ox on the Oregon Trail to adulthood.

Unrealistic resolution: This year I will spend more time with my family.
Realistic resolution: My family is dead to me. I love you, Netflix. Never leave me. Promise me you’ll never leave, Netflix.

Unrealistic resolution: This year I will “live in the moment.”
Realistic resolution: This year I will spend approximately 80 hours obsessing over the time in 10th grade gym when I bent down to bump a low-hit volleyball and farted really loudly.

Unrealistic resolution: This year I will drink less.
Realistic resolution: This year getting drunk will literally be the very first thing I do. It will also be the last thing I do twelve months later to conclude the year. In between, I will also get drunk.

Unrealistic resolution: This year I will read more and join a book club.
Realistic resolution: This year I will occasionally put the subtitles on an episode of Keeping Up with the Kardashians.

Unrealistic resolution: This year I will go to the gym and exercise regularly.
Realistic resolution: This year I will go to the gym six times in January, three times in February, and once in April. On a Wednesday in September, I will opt to take the stairs over the elevator to my 4th floor apartment and experience both a glowing sense of accomplishment and a Charley horse.

Unrealistic resolution: This year I will follow my dreams.
Realistic resolution: This year my idea for a Deep-Fried Cereal food truck will fail miserably.

Unrealistic resolution: This year I will make new friends.
Realistic resolution: This year the amount of people I can reasonably expect to attend my funeral will continue to plummet.

Unrealistic resolution: This year I will spend less and save more.
Realistic resolution: This year I will spend less and somehow also save less. “Resistance is futile,” my accountant will cheerfully explain.

Unrealistic resolution: This year I will find the person of my dreams and fall in love.
Realistic resolution: This year I will find the person of my dreams and fall up a flight of stairs within minutes of meeting them, spilling queso dip all over my sweater. I will immediately move to a new town and change my name.

Unrealistic resolution: This year I will “think positive.”
Realistic resolution: This year I will “test positive” for a rare contagious disease.

Unrealistic resolution: This year I will “give back” to the community.
Realistic resolution: This year I will “give back” to the community as part of 200 hours of court-ordered community service.

Unrealistic resolution: This year I will begin praying and become closer to God.
Realistic resolution: This year I will begin praying and God will explain he “just wants to be friends.”

Unrealistic resolution: This year I will travel more and finally go on the dream trip I’ve always wanted to take.
Realistic resolution: This year I will attend a destination wedding in Cincinnati.
Consumed with bitter resentment, I will look through my ex’s photos of his/her trip to Brazil on Facebook. Upon accidentally liking one of the pictures, I will burst into flames.