My Year In Review 2023

An Annual Tradition

Are you there, God, it’s me Andy? After all we’ve been through this year, I was a little worried I’d be writing into the void. But here you are! You survived the Canadian wildfires, super typhoon Mawar, a hurriquake, harassment of sea otters off the coast of California, the Barbieheimer experience, and, me personally, I lost my Tamarin monkey from the Dallas Zoo where he was visiting a family member sentenced to a two-year sentence for fecal misconduct. Yes, it certainly was a year filled with tones as bright as a Kenneth Branagh film screened aboard the OceanGate submarine. Thankfully, the silver lining was that the months flew by faster than Aaron Rodgers’ work with the Jets. 

Regrettably, I must admit it was wholly my fault as I inadvertently shared my Amazon OTP with others and all H-E-double hockey sticks broke loose… to the point where the only hockey sticks still remaining were in Las Vegas of all places. The faux pas set forth a series of incidents that cascaded into occurrences before spiraling toward episodes featuring unproductive proceedings involving sudden affairs in regards to work stoppages and labor strikes.  

From the beginning, I could tell challenging times lay ahead as my January was spent at the airport awaiting my Southwest flight. Ultimately, travel was facilitated and I managed to arrive in mid-August just in time to be stranded at Burning Man. The festival’s well-reported extended duration was due to a disagreement among concertgoers over the best sound system to use — Bose, JBL, Zabronics, etc. No majority consensus could be reached and they kept announcing, “A speaker still has not been selected.” Of course, most of us didn’t hear it because, well, no speaker.

However, while there, serendipity presented me with a gift that would change my life forever: a woman. We talked for what seemed like hours as we shared a pair of cannolis she brought with her from a pastry shop back in New Jersey. I was in love. Upon our eventual exit from the hallowed grounds of the Black Rock Desert in Nevada, I spontaneously began a trek of 2700 miles over mountains, through forests, across rivers by car, bicycle, pontoon boat, you name it! Finally, my quest was rewarded as I was reunited with my sweet!  And just in time too, as the cannoli store was about to close. I grabbed a couple to go since I had to be back to work in five days and couldn’t really dilly dally. That ricotta though!

September was spent on hold with Verizon. 

Alas, it was not all baubles, bangles, and beads as November found me embroiled in some controversy when my words were taken wholly out of context. Many people said I claimed “I was in the service” when I never claimed I was in THE service, like the armed forces but rather ” in the service”…  of my consulting clients. I work for them. That’s on those who did not read the full advertisement… particularly the fine print on the backside of the Suburban Shopper’s Insert pamphlet. I managed to salvage much of my reputation through my rizz which, thankfully and not to boast, is pretty next level.

There were times I just wanted to throw my hat in the air and summon for help. In fact, I almost decided not to write this year’s annual missive. In fact, I had a draft ready to go from Chat GPT. Here’s a snippet:

<<“Hello friend(s). What a year this was. Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha. There were many crazy things that happened, right? It’s so true. Like, for instance, there was politics. And entertainment was very interesting too. Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.”>>

Honestly, I think it’s got my rhythm down pretty well. But I would not want to be replaced… at least, not without a Jimbo Fisher-like deal in place first. 

There’s work to be done and I was not about to stop grinding, so this year I ground more than I have ever ground before. I continue to maintain a heavy presence across this entire global technological social network on sites like Substack and “the -gram,” but also check out my profiles on Digg, Reddit, Naver, Goo, Twerp, Plungr, Enema, GeorgeSantos, MySpace, and, of course,  G@sl1ght (though that’s basically just my outlet to tell you how vaccines are killing you and everyone in your Bridge group). And for those seeking my personal website, you can find it rebranded simply as “W.”

That brings us to today and a chance to relax, though even now, it’s difficult to passively enjoy Christmas tunes. When “Home for Christmas” comes on the Hi-Fi, I must listen to Hall’s vocals separately from Oates’ guitar work.

Through it all, we can still take comfort in the constants like Disney’s longevity, the Beatles ability to churn out music, and Simone Biles’ sustained dominance. Though I remain frustrated by the fact we still don’t know which of the Pickwick triplets did it.

Well, I’m on a strict pitch count here, so I’ll end this year’s note with a most famous holiday poem… 

Her eyes — how they danced, with glee, as she cheered,

At every pass caught by the burly Chief with the beard.

Though she was the draw, a sight to behold

In luxury boxes of stadiums young and old.

She was mainly on the stage, making millions and millions,

Far more than Aretha, or Whitney, or forgotten Denise Williams. 

You may think her selection by Time was not that great, 

But haters gonna hate hate hate hate hate. 

And her many fans heard her exclaim right into the mic,

“Merry Swiftmas to all, and to all a good night!” 

May a cargo of love and kindness aboard Elon’s rocket ship blow up raining peace and joy upon us all! 

Yours swathed in flannel,

Andy

[Disclaimer: all of what you have read is true. The only thing that is not true is the disclaimer.]