With the annual celebration of Pax Scorpiana nearing, I have a simple decree: Fuck wednesdays.
I really do hate them. They come so late in the week, that any post-weekend optimism you may have had has already long since been bludgeoned out of you, yet they are so near the beginning of the week that glorious Friday Afternoon seems so very far away.
People call Wednesdays "Hump Day". The title is rather misleading. There no humping involved. Instead, there is a metaphorical hump - a mid point of the week - where you're halfway through, and everything is going to be cake from here out, and you'll be farting unicorns and double rainbows for the next two days.
The Hump Day is a lie.
Wednesday is like the rebound girlfriend who is generally indifferent to your troubles, but it's better than being alone. Wednesday is a cock tease, the stripper who doesn't make eye contact during a lap dance. Wednesday is the radio DJ who's inane rambling cuts into the first couple seconds of your favorite song, only to butt in and interrupt during the last few as well.
Fuck you, Wednesday.
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3 comments:
While i generally try to be gentlemanly, my usual response to such bullshit is "If you're sticking it out there, i'm going to look."
The past couple Wednesdays have been complete shit. I'm hopping on this "Fuck Wednesday" bandwagon.
Seconded. This brings the total votes of the Council of the Scorpion to 2 which is a 2/3 majority therefore the motion passes and is law.
Obey the law, bitches.
Also, Wednesday is the date who only goes up and down the side like it's a fucking harmonica. You know what I'm talking about.
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