75 Bold New Year’s Dishonor List Day Wishes and Greetings to Share

Remember how we used to pass folded notes in class that said “you’re the worst” and then burst out laughing because we knew it meant “I love you, weirdo”? Dishonor List Day works the same way—an upside-down holiday where we roast the people we treasure most, just to watch them grin through the fake outrage. If your group chat is already buzzing with sarcastic countdowns and your best friend is bracing for impact, these 75 tongue-in-cheek wishes will give you fresh ammo to keep the tradition hilariously alive.

New Year’s Day may get the fireworks, but January 2 is when the real laughs detonate. A perfectly timed jab—wrapped in glittery paper and delivered with a toast—can reset the year better than any resolution. Below you’ll find copy-paste barbs for every flavor of friendship, from roommates who steal your socks to siblings who still bring up that 2009 karaoke fail. Pick one, tag them, and let the loving hostility begin.

For the Roommate Who “Borrowed” Everything

Perfect for the person who treats your closet like a pop-up shop and your snacks like community property.

May 2025 bring you a full set of matching socks—none of which are mine, thief.

Cheers to the year you finally buy your own oat milk instead of leaving me with cereal-flavored water.

New resolution: label everything with your name so the universe can return my hoodie from your evil clutches.

May every Uber you order smell faintly of the ramen you never clean out of my bowls.

Here’s to 365 days of you losing my stuff and finding new creative ways to pretend it was “already yours.”

Drop these into the group lease chat seconds before they ask for the Wi-Fi password—maximum psychological impact.

Screenshot their mortified reply and save it for next year’s dishonor reel.

For the Sibling Who Knows All Your Cringe Stories

Because nobody weaponizes childhood embarrassment quite like the person who shared your bunk bed.

Happy Dishonor Day to the only human who can still make my prom photos trend on family Zoom.

May your New Year be as flawless as my middle-school bangs—oh wait, you showed everyone those pics.

Congrats on finally moving out; now Mom can devote 100 % of her time to retelling your toilet-clogging saga.

Wishing you a 2025 full of adulting wins big enough to overshadow the fact that you once ate crayons on camera.

May every toast you make echo with the sound of me yelling “remember when you peed in the ball pit?”

Tag them in the family group text at midnight so Aunt Carol starts the year cackling alongside you.

Attach the most humiliating childhood pic for bonus sibling points.

For the Work Bestie Who Slacks Off With You

For the colleague who keeps you sane during Zoom marathons and knows exactly how many “coffee breaks” you actually take.

May your KPIs shine as brightly as the Netflix tab you keep hidden behind spreadsheets.

New year, same you: answering “per my last email” while online shopping for shoes.

Cheers to the year you finally use your PTO for something other than recovering from happy hour.

May your boss believe your “camera malfunction” every single time you wake up late.

Here’s to 2025 and the eternal hope that IT never checks our shared meme folder.

Send these via Slack with a random spreadsheet attached so it looks like actual work.

Schedule the message for 4:59 p.m. to preserve professional mischief.

For the Friend Who Always “Forgets” Their Wallet

Dedicated to the magician who turns every group dinner into an involuntary charity event in their honor.

May your 2025 be filled with contactless payments—and by that I mean contacts who actually pay.

New year, new you: may you finally experience the mystical wonder of picking up the tab.

Wishing you endless cashback rewards that somehow never flow back to us.

May your Venmo balance rise faster than the number of IOUs you’ve written on napkins.

Here’s to a year of you shouting “I’ll get next round” and the round actually arriving.

Print one on the back of the dinner receipt next time they claim left their card “at home.”

Hand it over right as the server approaches for maximum guilt velocity.

For the Fitness-Fanatic Friend Who Judges Your Snacks

When your pal’s idea of cheat day is adding an extra almond to their smoothie, these jabs keep their ego in check.

May your protein powder dissolve peacefully and your 5 a.m. alarm mysteriously snooze itself all year.

Cheers to 2025 gifting you a plateau so you finally taste the joy of couch inertia.

Wishing you unlimited gym selfies with accidental photobombs by pizza delivery guys.

May your smartwatch congratulate you for opening a bag of chips with the same enthusiasm it shows for burpees.

Here’s to the year your squat PR is matched only by the height of your kale stack wilting in the fridge.

Whisper these while they’re mid-plank so their core trembles with laughter and existential dread.

Follow up by offering them a french fry—watch the internal struggle sparkle in their eyes.

For the Chronically Late Friend

Because “I’m five minutes away” has become their catchphrase and your eye-roll trigger.

May your 2025 start on time—just kidding, we blocked off the first hour for your grand entrance.

New year, same ETA fiction; may Google Maps finally call your bluff.

Wishing you green lights and empty roads every time you’re actually running on schedule—so you’ll recognize the feeling.

May every restaurant lose your reservation exactly as often as you lose track of time.

Here’s to a calendar so packed that even your excuses show up late.

Send this batch 30 minutes before you plan to meet, so they receive it while still getting dressed.

Add a fake earlier start time in the invite to trick them into punctual paradise.

For the Serial Exaggerator

When their stories grow faster than their screen time, these greetings poke gentle holes in their ballooning tales.

May your 2025 stories shrink just enough to fit inside the truth’s carry-on luggage.

Cheers to the year your fish quits expanding and your mountain stops gaining elevation mid-sentence.

Wishing you an audience that still gasps even after the fact-checkers leave.

May your drama remain larger than life but small enough to squeeze through a doorway.

Here’s to new memories so wild you won’t need the enhancement filter.

Record their next tale and gift them the audiobook version titled “Based on a True Story, Probably.”

Applaud theatrically when they finish—then ask for receipts.

For the Gamer Who Never Leaves the Couch

For the friend whose tan comes exclusively from monitor glow and considers sunlight a DLC.

May 2025 load faster than your excuses to skip outdoor plans.

New year, new respawns—may your K/D ratio finally beat your pizza delivery frequency.

Wishing you a year of lag-free sessions and a girlfriend who doesn’t need a headset to hear you.

May your fitness tracker evolve into a Pokéwalker so steps actually count toward something.

Here’s to the year you unlock the secret achievement called “touching grass.”

Snap a pic of their empty energy-drink graveyard and caption it “gamer nativity scene.”

Gift them a single houseplant named “IRL DLC.”

For the Music Snob Friend

Because they discovered that band “before it was cool” and remind you every time the song plays.

May your 2025 playlist include a mainstream hit you secretly like but publicly deny.

Cheers to the year your vinyl collection gathers actual dust instead of pretension.

Wishing you concert tickets that don’t require a monologue about the opening act’s early demos.

May your earbuds blast a secret guilty pleasure that even Shazam keeps quiet.

Here’s to discovering an artist so fresh even you can’t gate-keep them.

Queue a bubblegum pop song at the next road trip and watch their soul leave the car.

Tell them you found the band on TikTok—enjoy the face-melt.

For the Beauty Guru Who Overdraws Reality

When their contour is sharper than their comebacks, these lines blend satire right into their foundation.

May 2025 gift you a filter that only works in real life—so you finally experience pores.

New year, new blending sponges—may they never betray you like your highlighter betrayed the ozone layer.

Wishing you a lipstick shade named “Actually This Is My Natural Color.”

May your lashes stay clump-free and your stories stay similarly separated from fiction.

Here’s to the day you post a #NoMakeup selfie and the comments still say “beat.”

Comment “natural look?” under their next selfie for instant chaos.

Gift them blotting papers labeled “excess drama absorbers.”

For the Travel Bragger

For the one who measures years in passport stamps and humble-bags in airport codes.

May your 2025 be filled with delayed flights that give you time to finish telling us about Bali.

Cheers to the year your suitcase gets lost and you have to wear normal clothes like the rest of us peasants.

Wishing you unlimited upgrades and zero Instagram signal so we get a vacation from your vacation.

May your souvenir shot glasses shatter loudly enough to drown out the phrase “when I was in…”

Here’s to discovering a place so remote even you can’t check in on Facebook.

Ask them to pronounce the local greeting correctly—watch them sweat.

Mail them a postcard from your couch signed “wishing you were here.”

For the Pet-Parent Who Thinks Fur Babies Beat Real Ones

When their camera roll is 98 % cat and their weekend plans revolve around doggie playdates, these jabs scratch the itch.

May 2025 teach your cat to finally pay rent for all that prime keyboard real estate.

New year, new tricks—may your dog learn to bring you actual dates instead of just socks.

Wishing you a litter box that cleans itself and friends who don’t feel second-tier to a guinea pig.

May your vet bills drop lower than your social life did the day you adopted ferrets.

Here’s to the year your fur child gets a job and stops freeloading off your love.

Wrap their present in human-baby shower paper for existential giggles.

Include a tiny resume template labeled “Chief Cuddle Officer.”

For the Foodie Who Instagrams Before Eating

When dinner is delayed until optimal golden-hour lighting, these greetings serve some humble pie.

May 2025 bless you with meals so hot you taste them before your followers do.

Cheers to the year your phone battery dies mid-boomerang and you survive the 5-minute panic attack.

Wishing you a restaurant that bans cameras so the food can finally arrive at the correct temperature.

May your hashtags trend almost as hard as your hunger rage.

Here’s to discovering a filter that makes leftovers look Michelin-starred.

Reach over and take a giant bite before they finish styling—capture the horror.

Caption your next burger pic “ate first, posted later—revolutionary.”

For the Overachiever Friend

Because they finished their resolutions before you even downloaded the habit tracker.

May your 2025 to-do list finally contain “do nothing” and may you actually check it off.

New year, same hustle—may your trophy shelf collapse under the weight of humble brags.

Wishing you one Zoom fail so we can see you human instead of holographic perfection.

May your side hustles side-hustle and still leave room for spontaneous pizza.

Here’s to the day you Google “how to relax” and schedule it into your calendar.

Send these via calendar invite titled “Mandatory Fun Block.”

Set the meeting location as “the couch, no agenda attached.”

For the Hopeless Romantic

When they cry at every wedding and narrate strangers’ love stories in real time, these lines cuff their sentimentality.

May 2025 swipe you right into someone who loves your over-texting heart.

Cheers to the year your ship becomes canon instead of living in fan-fiction forums.

Wishing you a meet-cute that doesn’t involve reaching for the same avocado at Whole Foods.

May your love life be as drama-free as the Hallmark movies you claim not to watch.

Here’s to deleting your dating apps because destiny finally slid into your DMs.

Include a tiny paper rose so they can cry, laugh, and cry again in under five seconds.

Sign the card “your platonic soulmate who refuses to elope.”

Final Thoughts

A well-aimed roast is just love wearing a clown nose—proof that you see them clearly and stick around anyway. These 75 greetings aren’t just jokes; they’re tiny mirrors reflecting shared history, inside jokes, and the comfort of being known so well that nothing you do could truly be dishonorable.

Pick the lines that feel like your crew’s secret handshake, tweak them with details only you would know, and fire away. When the notifications explode with laugh-cry emojis and fake-threat gifs, you’ll remember why this weird little holiday matters: it gives us permission to celebrate flaws out loud and still end the day huddled in the same photo booth of friendship.

So go tag, text, shout, or handwrite your chosen dishonor—then raise a glass to the beautiful mess of being human together. May your 2025 be gloriously imperfect, richly ridiculed, and overflowing with the kind of love that never needs perfect lighting or a filter. Cheers to another year of knowing exactly how to push each other’s buttons—and choosing to hit them gently, with confetti.