Kinda Cheesy

When you take a step back, 'Breathalizer' is a really stupid name.

Get your new titty calendars out of the plastic.
It's New Year's Day.
My least favourite celebrated religious holiday that there is.
Next to Remembrance Day.
Which always tends to be a downer.
But New Year's is up there.
Like I need to be reminded that I have a whole new year of possibilities.
Do you know what all failures start as?
Possibilities.
Besides that, fireworks startle me.
No resolutions to speak of this year.
There's nothing quite as sad as breaking a promise to one's self.

My grandmother began eating cheezies at the age of 92*.
Never touched salted snacks beforehand.
92 she can't get enough of them.
By 94 she'd stopped eating them again.
Two years of an intense fondness for cheezies.
After nearly a century of not being fussy on them.
I think that's the funniest thing.
If you don't agree with me, re-read the previous paragraph or something.
Go back to September.
There should be something funny in September.

*I forgot to mention this when Colin initially wrote this post.
Cause Colin writes all of these.
He's the literary mastermind behind Tragic Hero.
I'm just the figurehead.
On her diet:
My grandmother, 'near the end' as they say, was chilling in the hospital.
She maintained she was fine, but she wasn't big on the food.
And she wished that she could have a couple of boiled cod's heads.
Which is as adorable as it is disgusting, really.
My favourite part of the story?
The elderly woman in the bed across from her said:
"Yes my dear, and I'd love some boiled cod's heads, too."