Sometimes the day sucks even before it starts.
You wake up in a foul mood, can’t seem to get yourself going, disregard the small blessings of having a home and a family and few military threats aimed at you, and step out into the world itching for a fight. (If you have never experienced this, you must not have the joy of being half-Finnish; I carry the genetics of a country perpetually steeped in misery and gloom).
Today was one of those days. I don’t like being miserable and angry, but nothing seemed to help. Positive thinking fell flat, I don’t have enough alcohol in the house to get a good drunken binge going, and sparring night isn’t until tomorrow.
As such, I need at least a few of the following things to happen soon, or I might just sink completely into this quagmire.
- Every single person on “The Hills,” “Jersey Shore,” “Peak Season,” and the rest of those vapid, moron-filled shows gets banished to an island filled with dinosaurs. It will be televised, and the last survivor wins. The winner’s prize is a sound thrashing with hardcover copies of The Lord of the Rings.
- The automotive industry will secretly start making “Jerkstore Monitors” in all of their vehicles. These monitors become active whenever the driver decides that a busy highway is their own personal slalom course. At this point the monitor takes control of the car, drives it on autopilot to the nearest police station, and starts blaring racial slurs and pig noises until the cops come out and
- Drag the driver out by the hair and “accidentally” smack his face off the curb, or
- Open fire on it (US model only).
- Rick Mercer gets elected Prime Minister of Canada. And he gets to pee on Stephen Harper’s leg while he’s moving out of 24 Sussex.
- Sarah Palin collapses while she does her speech in Hamilton, and is forced to choose to either use our “inferior” public system or die a horrible and painful death. (Of course, for this to be a good thing, Sarah Palin would have to gain about 60 IQ points since the significance of it will blow right past her empty head.)
- Anyone that uses the word “ironic” improperly (“Isn’t it ironic that I broke two fingernails today?”) would immediately be subjected to a moderate electric shock between their 6th and 7th vertebrae.
All I ask is that at least two of these things come true by tomorrow morning.
And that someone offers me a $100,000 advance for the publishing rights to my novel.
And that I can get my model lightsaber to actually cut through steel and make that “bvvvmmmm” noise.