Thanks to the intolerable overload of wrap-ups, we refuse to list the Best Whatever Of 2004 and we'd rather be fucked gently with a chainsaw than stoop to giving out Gawkies for Best Nip Slip. Instead, still-on-our-couch guest co-editor Matt Haber and I are looking ahead to the future. In 2005, Gawker resolves to:

· Refer to Daily News gossiper Lloyd Grove only as [redacted].

· Get married! Get divorced! Remarry someone who wears a lot of tracksuits!

· Genuinely like and/or love at least one thing per week. Or start using Botox to prevent onset of forehead wrinkles resulting from constant disgust.

· Stop praying that a crack-and-crime resurgence will finally make it possible for us to afford to live here.

· Sleep with Cargo editor Ariel Foxman. Oh, wait... Whatever, we're still going to try. Matt might score.

· Wash hands. A lot. Need to go wash hands.

· Work on controlling our O.C.D.

· Eat more carbs. More Olestra. More saccharin. More Vioxx.

· Really read The New York Times, not just carry it around and occasionally write posts condemning it.

· Stop losing cell phones. Inside people. We don't even know.