For a Red Wedding.

For those of you didn’t binge watch Game of Thrones, I won’t spoil it for you. When you get to it, you’ll know what I’m talking about. You’ll realize it is happening because your face will look like this:

It’ll stay like that for a few hours. You’ll know it looks like that because you’ll catch a glimpse of yourself reflected off of the toaster, on the way to the liquor cabinet.

Today is it. The last of 2013. Good riddance. Tomorrow begins another year. We’re not going out like sissies, though. As much as we want to, after this shithole of a year. No. We won’t go out like that. We’re going out like this:

Yeah.

Just like that.

We will let the night wash over us and we windmill our hair and shred way up high on the tiny strings. They will know us far and wide. They will love us and despair. And then we’ll eat Moons Over My Hammy free at every Denny’s in the world. This will be our legacy. They will speak our names unto the four winds and babes will weep, for unknown reasons, miles away. So it is written, so it shall be done.

I must away for a secret mission. If I told you what it was, it wouldn’t be very secret.

See ya’ next year.

More soon. ~SC