dear 2024 - go to the store

and get yourself a big, drippy bag of dicks

The year began with Covit - the kind that lingers a little longer than it should. One day sick, the next day fine then a couple of days go by and boom. All pain. All the time.

After such a sunny start, 2024 did not stop being disappointing, troubling, painful and sad.

Dear 2024,

You fucking sucked more than I could possibly express.

Eat a bag of dicks and fuck off to the bottom of the ocean.

If you were a person, I’d tie you to a table and take a poopy in your mouth.

If you were a booger, you’d be one of those dense hard yet slimy ones that gets snuffed too deeply into a throat then hocked up onto a dirty pretzel in a Helsinki dumpster.

I’m grateful to you 2024. I did not have a heart attack while peering into a septic tank.

Thank you. That is one time you did not suck.

But besides that?

Don’t let the door hit you on the arse on the way out.

I’m serious.

Don’t let the fucker. I’ve covered it with knives infested with herpes.

Kind Regards,

The crack scraping fool

(This last year?

It was bad.

This next one?

I hope.

Happy New Year Fools. )