Friends, that's a quote from New Girl. How do I know that? CAUSE I'M WATCHING GODDAMN NEW GIRL AT 11:30 ON A SATURDAY NIGHT. ON "ON DEMAND." Why am I doing that? Cause I'm a pathetic loser. And guess what. If you're reading this there is a high percentage chance that you too put way too much of your emotional balance in 17-22 year old males or multi-millionaire football players. And if you're Louisiana you have just experienced an emotional apocalypse the likes of which wont be seen until the real apocalypse in approximately 11 months and one week and IT CANT COME FAST ENOUGH.
Look, these are the end times. I read "World War Z." Read the news. Homeless people are turning up missing in San Francisco. This is a sign that the Zombie Apocalypse is upon us. And who will be the first to go? Healthcare workers. Why? Cause, as Contagion taught us, "we're sending the healthy to take care of the sick" and guess what they get sick too. I'M SO SURPRISED, MORPHEUS. TELL ME MORE OF YOUR NEWLY MUSTACHED KNOWLEDGE. I'm so glad you're safe in the CDC with your fancy "vaccines" and your "science." The rest of us will just slum it here with our "vancomycin" in the face of shitsnacks crazy zombie disease. A disease that turns people into zombies. Because that's what's coming, folks. And I hope you're gettin' to the range cause they only stop with head shots. And at the rate we're going, I'd rather turn into a zombie from "The Walking Dead" where I have to sit through hours of painful dialogue about "OH WE GOTTA GIT 'ER BACK SHE'S MAH GUHRRRL." Son, you're British. You sound like a fifth grader we held back two times so he could get to "football weight" OH JESUS FOOTBALL AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.
OK, so I've accepted my fate. I'm ready to go. Have I experienced love, the first snow fall of winter in a beautiful prairie, the soft coo of a child that is of your own flesh and blood? No, no I haven't. But if it hurts as much as this week, I'm glad I didn't because dear sweet God, they don't make enough whiskey on this planet or the other 8 (THAT'S RIGHT PLUTO'S STILL MY BOY) to numb the emotional torment that I feel right now. I once posited that this felt like someone you loved was thrown into a woodchipper. I was wrong. This feels like someone you loved was thrown into a woodchipper by, I shit you not, Keanu Reeves and he turns to you in his Neo glasses and says "whoa." And then you think, "aw shit, I got Keanu" but wrong, son, this is The Matrix, and he kung foos your ass into a subway train. But since its The Matrix, you not only feel yourself plowed into a train for the rest of your existence, but you also hear the audience clap because they're stupid and they think you're the enemy. That is how you feel now, because not only did you lose but everyone is so happy that you lost because, as I have learned this week, AMERICA HATES A WINNER BUT LOVES A LOSER WHO GOES "AWW SHUCKS" ENOUGH TO MAKE AMERICA FORGET THAT THEY ARE IN FACT THE VILLAIN. THEY WERE THE ONES PULLING PEOPLE OUT OF VATS OF HAPPINESS. Just like that-school-we-wont-speak-of pulls kids out of vats and looks at this seemingly speedy cover-corner and says "you are mine now" who goes on to absolutely blow man coverage in the last 3 seconds of the game. PROBABLY SOMETHING LIKE THAT.
The question in your mind is probably, "What did I do to deserve this?" Who knows. Try, as I did, to look through the litany of sins you have committed against your God, the Gods of others, and the 'merican Constitution and honestly tell me you can see where whatever deity you hold dear would punish you the way you are punished now. You can't. It's impossible. The pain you go through is too severe that it is equitable to the fault that you have incurred upon the cosmic fabric of karma. AND DON'T GET ME STARTED ABOUT KARMA. Those thoughts are my own, where I keep them in the darkest place of my heart of hearts that is three sizes too small and made out of depleted uranium.
They say that we've become spoiled fans. Two national championships in ten years? A Superbowl in this decade? WE ONLY LIVE 7 (SEVEN) DECADES ON AVERAGE WHY IS IT SUDDENLY TOO MUCH TO ASK FOR A CHAMPIONSHIP EVERY YEAR? I'm not unreasonable. I'm just someone trying to chase that beautiful butterfly you call happiness. Unfortunately, that butterfly turns out to be god damn eagle and just flys off in into the sunset, crapping on us as it leaves our ill-y constructed butterfly-but-not-good-enough-for-eagles nets.
This is the worst time in your life. Believe that. Other people will tell you that it's nothing, that you're being stupid for being so upset about this, that you're an idiot for crying over a football game. But when you look up at them with tears of blood and eyes that lust for revenge, then maybe they too will understand that you don't poke at an angry dragon and say "hey big fella, it's OK you'll get 'em next time." They'll just leave you alone, to your scotch, and your Adele songs. "Sometimes it last in love but sometimes it hurts instead?" That is horseshit. It always hurts. Sometimes you're just lucky enough to end on a high note.
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