There you are, 2018. I was expecting you. I learned some lessons from your predecessor. How about yourself? Looking for trouble? I am ready. I tell you something: you will be dead on December 31st. And I will still be around. If then you were a good year, I will cherish your memory. If not, I will forget about you, like I forgot about 2017. I know you don't care. Neither do I. Counting your days. Ready? - One.