I just completed my fourth straight year of wearing the Icelandic necropants, and all I have to say is: HELL YEAH!!! WE’RE GOING FOR FIVE!!! In other words, my New Year’s resolution for 2025 is to continue wearing this dead Icelandic dude’s lower-body skin suit everywhere I go (obviously) as well as to educate people about the necropants in those places.
That’s because education is important, and, quite frankly, not enough people know about the necropants. I’m always shocked to walk into a fine dining establishment or an office supply store or the local library or really just anywhere outside my house only to find out that no one knows what the necropants are. Of course, some people do know now, since they’ve encountered me, but this only applies to the people that didn’t run away before I could tell them about the necropants.
The main thing to know is that, in addition to their general awesomeness – which predominately derives from the scrotum that magically produces money instead of semen which, admittedly, I’m grateful for on so many levels – the necropants also produce a very soothing effect on whoever wears them. Not necessarily on whoever observes them, but on whoever wears them, and that’s key.
So really, this year’s resolution is about combating ignorance, basically. I also like to think it’s virtuous of me. I have to admit, my prior New Year’s resolutions have all been a little bit on the self-indulgent side. I mean, take this past year for example. Sure, I thought it was cool to get creative with the necropants (and it was) but did that actually benefit anyone else? Not really.
For starters, nobody even showed up to the events I arranged through Meetup for necropants enthusiasts, so I eventually canceled the group since Meetup was charging me to host it. I also attempted to get on some nationally televised game shows like Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy!, but the magic of the necropants did not compel the show organizers to select me at the phase in which you’re required to provide a photograph of yourself. I sometimes wonder if I might have had a better chance in Europe. I did end up on a YouTube video that went viral, though. And yes, it was filmed at a dog park when I made the common mistake of just simply walking by. Let’s just say I got a really good cardio workout that day.
At one point this past year I even attempted to get a cool, new tattoo on the scrotum, but the leathery hide damaged the needle and so now it just looks like it has a bruise on one side instead of the sweet Led Zeppelin angel logo that I’d been hoping for. You win some, you lose some.
But getting back to my New Year’s resolution for the coming year – it just seems so obvious to me that highly tense and hostile people would benefit from the soothing effect of wearing the necropants. Personally, I haven’t worried about shit since I put them on back in the start of 2021. They’re amazing like that; one minute you’re freaking out about a global pandemic, race riots, and an utterly ruined housing market, and the next you’re focused on scratching an itch you just can’t quite reach while simultaneously pondering how to manipulate your new dead scrotum to achieve maximum personal profit.
So call me crazy, but I just have this inkling that Putin wouldn’t be so violent and aggressive if he just put on a pair of the necropants the next time he went for a walk around the Kremlin. Obviously, he’d look really good in a pair of necropants and one of those puffy Russian winter hat things. I haven’t decided yet on what he should wear on his torso, though. Maybe one those plain black Steve Jobs-style turtlenecks? And/or perhaps a cape?
But this principle of pacifying violent megalomaniacs by instructing them in the economic benefits of wearing necropants and then encouraging them to put on a pair could also extend beyond Russia to the world stage in general. Although, admittedly, the necropants would be much more uncomfortable in the hot desert temperatures of the Middle East, and don’t even get me started on the humidity of Washington D.C.
It’s just that I think if every irate asshole in the world was equipped with a floppy, dried-out, and mildly crusty scrotum that they could pull money out of whenever they wanted, we’d actually come closer to achieving world peace. We certainly wouldn’t be any worse off at any rate. Because seriously, who would want to start wars or commit terrorist acts under such fun and fashionable, wealth-generating circumstances as irrevocably provided by a permanent pair of necropants? Probably no one.
