I'm Going To Kick 2009's Ass

That's right 2009 . . . I'm gunning for you.

My foot's going to be paying a visit to your backside, checking in with your gall bladder, then spending a pleasant evening by the fire with your esophagus.

Don't act all surprised.

Your ass is grass and I'm a particularly effective implement of lawn care.

If you've got fallout shelter somewhere, you're gonna wanna get in it. I don't know why you'd bother, though, since wherever you go, I'm gonna be on you like stink on skunk tail.

I'm gonna Dog the Bounty Hunter you until I've got you in the crosshairs.

I've got one resolution and it involves my Doc Martens and your backside.

Now, I'll be the first to admit that 2008 got in a few good licks. Between the crummy economy and the so-called election and the seemingly improbable release of Chinese Democracy, 2008 definitely took a couple rounds off of me.

But all that is about to change.

I am bigger, faster, tougher, and hungrier than 2009.

And even though you're only five days old, you're already sucking wind, 2009, and I'm not even breaking a sweat.

Year of the ox my ass. 2009 is the year of the boot.

Consider yourself warned.
EM