I am particularly bad at new year's resolutions. I pretend not to make them by scoffing when asked, but secretly concoct several in my mind and don't tell anyone so I don't have to publicise my failure. And failure is inevitable. The resolution of giving up alcohol for the month of January tends to collapse on top of me an average of nine to 11 days in, beginning with "oh, I'll just have a glass of red wine with dinner" and ending with a whirlwind of mojitos/arrests/being found asleep on the roof of a shopping centre.

Gym membership and this concept people have of 'getting fit' is also completely lost on me. I mean, why bother? Does no one realise that sitting on the couch watching a pirate copy of The Hurt Locker is infinitely preferable to changing in front of strangers after getting all sweaty on some stupid piece of machinery that will probably be withdrawn in a few years for giving people bowlegs? I preach this anti-fitness ceremony frequently, only to be berated by my older sisters about how amazing something they do in a public park called 'Bootcamp' is because Amy Huberman is in their class and they came second in the category of 'most improved family duo'.

Anything else like 'being less stressed' or 'eating a proper breakfast' are also conjectural notions I can't really ever seem to grasp. It's like trying to reach for something tangible that's coming at you on a screen, only to realise that you're actually watching a 3D film and have just made a fool of yourself in the cinema (thanks, Avatar).

January is a rubbish time of year to change your life anyway. It is a time when the human body is at its most passive, craving hibernation. Resolutions should really be things like "I promise to watch the entire five series of The Wire again," or "I promise to bake a cake so big I will have to eat my way out of the kitchen". So instead of the usual hideous 'self-improvement' resolutions that are designed to make us feel worse about ourselves, I've decided to come up with new year's resolutions for other people, which is far more fun.

Resolution #1: Facebook should start a Facebook campaign to end Facebook campaigns. Then Sky News, Metro and the Irish Independent mightn't dedicate so much time to valuable news stories such as the quest to bring back Wispas, getting Rage Against The Machine to number one, and the LADY GAGA WTF PUT ON SOME PANTS group. What did we do before Facebook campaigns? Did people even have opinions? Did we ever even align ourselves to any kind of movement or belief system BSU (Before Status Updates)? Do our 649 friends really need to know about our murderous hatred of Thierry Henry/semi-racist Tiger Woods joke? It has to stop.

Resolution #2: Straight women and gay men of all ages need to enact an anti-screeching resolution every time the words 'Robert Pattinson' are mentioned. Reasons why this resolution should be made: he is not even that hot, his abs are airbrushed on in New Moon, he is not actually a real vampire, he is responsible for a kind of Mormon abstinence 'rape is okay if it's a hawt vampire doing it' attitude amongst teenage girls, and because of the success of Twilight we'll be watching vampire themed television series and films well into 2015.

Resolution #3: I would like all Hollywood actors to make a resolution not to prescribe themselves painkillers as if they were rhinos with an unanaesthetised amputation. Seemingly, if celebrities got over their willingness to pop Vicodin, Demerol, Xanax, Paxil, Endodan and Oxycontin every time they felt a sneeze coming along, then a lot more of them this year (Michael Jackson, DJ AM, Brittany Murphy, and less recently Heath Ledger) would be alive and well. Note to starlets, if you're not feeling the best, try a Lemsip, as opposed to injecting yourself with a synthetic opiate.

Resolution #4: Famous sportsmen, come out! Don't worry how it will affect your career. Everything will be okay. Don't listen to Max Clifford when he said he urged two of the gay Premiership footballers he represented to stay in the closet because he felt coming out would ruin their careers. Look at Donal Óg! Look at Gareth Thomas! Everything will be grand, and that talented playground footballer who is at the wrong end of homophobic lunchtime bullying will thank you for it.

Resolution #5: Dear Nama'd-up property developers. Why not spend your time in between being screamed at on The Frontline and dodging in and out of the courts freeing up the dead space you own around Ireland's urban areas. That empty office building with paper-thin walls you built beside a train line? Hand a few rooms over to some local artists for hosting exhibitions. Those desolate retail units on the ground floor of out-of-town apartments? They'd work really well as an all-ages live venue. Not only will you earn a few quid and keep the damp out, but the liberal media will herald you as a progressive and kind genius.

So screw self-improvement, and resolve to give advice to others instead. Wanted or not. Happy new year, and in the words of Bill and Ted, be excellent to each other.

umullally@tribune.ie