2016 is over. You probably know that because you’ve also probably seen 18,000 posts about how it was the worst year ever, because truly it twas. 2016 was a carnage monster of awfulness. It was the Sharknado of years, and every time you thought “Okay, clearly somebody is messing with us and none of this is real, and any minute now we will all wake up from this Inception nightmare where we’ve all entered the same dream within a dream, within a nightmare, within Donald Trump’s dream,” but then we never woke up and we all had to admit that it happened.
And I wrote a post about it, then I deleted that post about it because everybody wrote the same thing and I didn’t want to jump on the bandwagon. BUT Y’ALL, this was the year that actual MURDER CLOWNS came out of the woods to destroy us all!
Real life clowns with swords and sh*t were lurking in the woods this year because 2016 was really and truly just that sort of level of crazy and people started living like consequences weren’t real anymore. Clowns actually tried to lure children and other assorted people into the freaking woods to be murdered! MURDER CLOWNS!
Because nightmares are apparently now coming true all over the place, and when our parents tried to comfort us after we watched “IT” and they told us it wasn’t real, they were lying. Murder. Clowns. MURDER CLOWNS!
Because 2016 was a never ending minefield of sadness, and we all knew it would be when 2 weeks into January we lost Snape!
I loved that man! And no year that starts out like that, with that deep level of sadness, is going to end in ponies and ice cream, friends. And then the 2016 year of throat punching took Prince and Bowie and Mrs. Brady and Harper Lee and Elie Wiesel and Princess Leia (that one extra hurt) and Patty Duke and Alan Thicke and Muhammad Ali and Debbie Reynolds and Harambe. And freaking Gene Wilder. Willy freaking Wonka, 2016! How dare you? Seriously, is somebody protecting Morgan Freeman? Gary Oldman? Donald Sutherland? Who has eyes on Stanley Tucci, because that man is a treasure! And if any of those guys die I think we have to just shut down Hollywood and the movie industry all together.
And then of course there was the 2016 election… That’s all I’m going to say on the matter. That was a nasty few months. You know what you did, America.
But you know what, I think we’re all in a good place now to start this 2017. That place like after you totally bottom out, and you’re lying bloody in a gutter thinking “Wow, things can really only get better from here.” Or like after you get out of a bad relationship and you’re excited for the next phase because your expectations are super low. Hmmmm, that’s sounding more depressing than I meant it to. How about this: it’s like after you get food poisoning, and for days you’re sick and weak and dying, and you can’t eat and everything hurts, but then on day 3 you finally wake up and feel a little smidgen better, and you eat your first saltine cracker. And that saltine is the best f*$%ing thing you’ve ever tasted in your entire life because you haven’t eaten in days and you’ve forgotten what crackers and joy taste like. Yup, this is the winning analogy! 2017 is the saltine cracker after the slow painful poisoning of 2016.
My point was that this is going to be a wonderful year. Did that come across properly during all my talk about celebrity death, food poisoning and clown murders? It did? Oh super! So happy 2017, several days too late because I’ve been hibernating. I hope you make surprising and wonderful mistakes, and that you find little ways to be happy each day, and that at least one you finds a cure for Zika.