I Guess I'll Wait Another Year

I think we've established last year what I think about New Year's Eve (Hate it; think it can go fuck itself) and what I think about New Year's Day (Not a fan either), so allow me to gracefully sidestep this horrible, horrible day.

Point is, it's been a crappy year. I'm not about to discount the fact that a lot of good things have happened too, but all in all? Crap. Most people my age describe relationship troubles as arguments about going on dates or not talking enough; Mine is the fact that my love in some far off town in an indeterminate graveyard.

Not to mention the fact that lack of closure can lead to balding. And if my mother's predictions are true, I'll grow up to look like my Dad. If the bitch is right, I'll probably either off myself or dump a ton of money getting plastic surgery.

Although one thing I am happy about is that I don't have to write anymore end of year lists. I mean yes, they were fun at first, but after a while, the novelty sort of wears off. Needless to say I won't be condensing ideas into numerically arranged lists in descending order for a looooooooong time.

Also, one final thing: If I hear one more person use the word "Drama" to describe daily problems (i.e. "Laura J.'s not coming to the movies because Melanie C. owes her $5? I CANNOT HANDLE THIS DRAMA!"), I will not hesitate to claw their eyes out. When the hell did daily life become a bad MTV reality show? At this point, "Drama" to me has become synonymous for "I'm a douchebag with no grasp of reality; Please hit me in the face with a crowbar until this situation is remedied".

Jeremy Feist: Hitting you in the face with a crowbar since 2010.