On 22 pretty lousy fuckin’ days

Or,

If Brittany can do it, then I can too.

Recently, a dear and far away friend broke up with 2003. It was tasteful and dignified, it seems to have gone really well for them.

I am not her. My new realtionship with 2004 is being FedExed to Hell on a handcart, and I want out right now. I need to get this marriage annulled, and I keep thinking I should have done it at the 55 hour mark. I’ve already changed the locks, and thrown all this year’s shit out the window. I’ve been cutting up the pictures of us after blacking out the year with a magic marker. I burned all the year’s letters, and I’m keeping all it’s cd’s. What could this year have done that could have been so awful? Here’s the list.

I turned 30. This was not supposed to happen to me.

I found the first gray hair. Plus, one big thick black one on my back. What’s next, ear hair?

I lost my wallet, so now I have no ID. I’m old as hell and I still can’t get into bars or buy beer.

I broke my glasses Now they sit crooked on my face.

The Ivory Cat got burglarized. The guy had clearly cased the joint, knew how to get past our security measures, and then drank a can of our grapefruit juice and left it behind withhis fingerprints all over it. Jackass.

The City shut down the bar two days later A broken water main cost us one whole nights business, not to mention I only made 13 dollars in tips before they made us shut it down. Assholes. At least it reopened the next day.

So, anyone know a good divorce lawyer, ’cause this year sucks, and it’s only 23 days old. I haven’t left my room since I got up this morning, and I’m not sure I want to.

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