Jesus H. Christ – 2011 is nearly over. 365 days gone, just like that. The road behind me is stretching longer and longer and often I wonder what will happen next, what people will enter my life and whose lives I will enter. Maybe I’ll enter a few women too – haha, intercourse.

But switching gears for a second, I’d now like to take this time to seriously and genuinely contemplate those that have walked into my life over the past year – however brief or long they might have stayed. Some may still, in fact, be in my life as I write this, to which I can only ask, “What the hell are you thinking?”

Let me not waste any more of your precious 2011 seconds:

To the Thai woman at my local donut shop, thank you for always giving me those free donuts holes with my tiger tail. Sometimes, I just get so depressed and the only things between me and a razor are three diabetes bombs down the hatch. Also, you are kind of hot when I walk in drunk.

To the person who keyed my car in San Francisco, how the hell did you make such a straight line? I was just floored, I was that impressed! Every time it’s happened to me, it’s some kind of mess of a scribble but you – it’s like you used a friggin’ ruler! Did you use a ruler?

Also: fuck you.

To the girl I took out to pho, if I had known you were that horny, I would have just gone dutch with you on that meal. You should know that I still regret that to this day. And this was in February! I mean, really – you chose a place that had less than three stars on Yelp.

To the sushi chef from Lakewood, I don’t know a word of Korean but I’m so sure you were talking shit about me. Man, that’s gotta stop. It’s my own business if I choose to put too much soy sauce on my fish. I expect that shit when I go to a Korean BBQ joint but when you be workin’ at a sushi place – nuh-uh.

To my long-lost cousin on my dad’s side, I can’t say apologize enough. If it’s any consolation, I would have made my flirting less crass had I known we were related.

To the people who give me samples at Costco, is it so hard to believe that I have a girlfriend that you can’t give me that extra meatball? You know I’m just gonna take my glasses off; walk around; and come back anyway so why not just save me some legwork?

To whoever knows the person who used to have my phone number, please stop calling.

To the janitor at the Jack in the Box by the Arclight Los Angeles, believe me when I tell you that I tried to flush it. When I came back two weeks later, all of it was clean and it wasn’t just magic that wiped it all away. For your efforts, I salute you – and I’m so, so sorry.

To the kid I shoved to get a good seat for the Dark Knight Rises prologue, it’s your own damn fault you were in front of me. Say hi to your mother for me!

To the guy whose dog’s shit I stepped in, maybe I deserved that for shoving that kid. But I hope someone shoves your kid for not picking up your dog’s crap.

To the woman who recommended the tikka masala, you could probably still get me to try whatever you like but I’ll never forgive you for steering me in that direction without telling me how spicy it was. My ass was sore for weeks!

I can imagine that “My ass was sore for weeks!” is not the best way to end a list, and that’s exactly why I’m doing just that. To anyone else I forgot: I forgot.

Have a crazy New Year’s, everyone!