Stephen Blackmoore

Did you make noise last night? Scream into the air when the new year came? Set off fireworks? Rattled your chains? Sound your barbaric yawp? Even if it was just to puke out all that peyote-laced tequila on the neighbor’s lawn?

Good. Keep it up. You can do this.

Sure, it’s just a date. An arbitrary milestone. No big deal, right? It’s just a year.

Horseshit.

It’s YOUR year. Your year to make the way you want it. Your year to make it all work. Your year to grab by the balls and make that motherfucker yelp and not take any of its backtalk.

You OWN this fucker.

You should be making this face every goddamn day.

And when things get rough? Just remember what ol’ Jack Burton does when the earth quakes, and the poison arrows fall from the sky, and the pillars of Heaven shake. Yeah, Jack Burton just looks that big ol’ storm right square in the eye and he says, “Give me your best shot, pal. I can take it.”

Yeah, you got this one.