Day 336: Up Yours T-Roy. At Least I’m Drinking a CBS.

Today, a war has begun and the first shot was fired upon yours truly. Luckily it missed because the author is terrible at flinging mash potatoes. Yes, my once ally, T to the Roy, T Cozy, T Turnwaldo, has announced that he too will be attempting this vast and tiresome experiment of writing every day for a year. But he will take it four steps farther to 369 days because you know...he he he.

His “first” day consisted of a recounting of the past year or the first year of his marriage. I’ll give them nineteen years at the most. It’s doomed for divorce. All they do is play Animal Crossing, watch sports games, and buy stupid awesome tickets to wrestling matches for their family for Christmas like a couple of weirdos. And they buy furniture. Whoa! Look out Ross and Rachel, there’s a new couple in town that’s going to steal your heart...and your Chinese food.

His second day was just a puking match of a diatribe that went on for three paragraphs too long, spewing his lifelong hate towards me and announcing his plans to destroy my record. Well, I WILL ALLOW IT! Because what T-Rizzle does not know is the next year of his life will be pain. Beautifully destructive pain, like splinters that poke at the tired eyelids of someone that is forced to watch violent acts on a movie screen while listening to classical music.

Oh wait, there’s more! Don’t ever think about going to hang out with friends and toss a few back. No sir. Because when it is time to eat cold pizza and pass out watching old episodes of Seinfeld at three in the morning, the blog will still be waiting for you. Your poor mom will be waiting anxiously in her plush rocking chair, staring at the clock, and desperately wondering when her son will give the world a sentence — just one thought to ease her tired mind. And you will be staring at a blank white screen with a mocking black line, blinking into your pupils like a terrible song on repeat. The pressure will build and build. The thoughts will drain and drain. The mind will become empty and all that time you spend at home, thinking that you are being responsible by not being out in the world will be the fallacy that will bring about your sanity’s destruction.

Muuuuuh haaa haaa haaa!!!

Or it might be fine.

In all sarcastic seriousness, I wish him the best of luck. This is not an easy task and he will need all the support we can give him. I love his dumb butt and will be grateful for the day that we can cheers one when he finally finishes number 369. In the meantime, I will be chuckling and drinking some sweet, sweet CBS from Founders. God damn, it’s good.

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Author’s Note #1: Like anyone is going to look up those Pantones anyway. Everyone knows that RGB (171, 215, 235) is the most calming of colors anyway.

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