End of the World

“Happiness is the meaning and the purpose of life, the whole aim and end of human existence.” – Aristotle


“Enough crying” I said to attorney/girlfriend last night.

“It’s almost my birthday, we need to do something fun”

Plus we were gaining an hour, basically permission from the Gods to stay out all night. Having recently sworn off illegal narcotics, I knew I’d have to dig a little deeper than usual for inspiration.

“Let’s go to the End Of The World party – we can write Aristotle quotes all over us and try to get people to play along

“Only if we can ask them to write what they think is the best quote of all time on us with sharpie”

“And then laugh about how stupid they are later?!”

Luckily she’s on my level (in every way) so she doesn’t ask me anything dumb like ‘why would that be fun?’.

The only thing she asks is “where can we buy sharpies in the city this late?”

A short trip to CVS solves our first-world tragedy where we also get some rubbing alcohol so she can still bill clients in the morning. It’s not like we can get on board with being poor, even covered in marker.

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Take note of the green marker on my leg. It says ‘That Thing’. Attorney/girlfriend and I have been on a real kick mocking the gender fluid movement because it’s fucking ridiculous. We decided that our preferred pronoun is ‘That Thing’ and we get VERY OFFENDED if it’s not used.

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The good thing about not being on drugs is that now we can draw attention to ourselves. I ate an entire brick of cheddar cheese in the hotel lobby yesterday with zero qualms about police involvement.

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This was right after we were yelling loudly about gender identity and a bachlorette asked us what our preferred pronouns were (Proof that God is working in our lives). We both shrieked ‘That Thing!” at her and she walked away, drunk and confused.

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You have to catch people at the perfect time. Not enough alcohol and they are too inhibited. Too much and all they want to do is cry about how their babysitter molested them. It was ten years ago get over it! I’d say somewhere around drink three depending on body weight.

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You can tell this was towards the end of the night because I look sleepy. Time to get home, take a handle of pills, and watch Roomba be my hot robot slave.


As predicted we end up with a lot of song lyrics, not even clever ones. And I now have ‘I am a strong independent woman’ scrawled across my back in sharpie.

We also end up with a lot of phone numbers, proof that you always look better when you’re having fun.

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