An amateur pessimist's guide to the months of the year

A new year. New things to stress about. It's Januworry.

Only one month into the year and you're tired. Februweary.

Screw the dream; you sold out to the system. It must be Merch.

The world has made a monkey outa you. You're pissed. But what are you gonna do about it? It's only Aperile.

It's too hot to give a fuck about anything. Yay. It's Meh.

Your world-view is still jaundiced. Naturally. It's Jaune.

Ethics. Principles. Ju do what ju gotta do. Ju lie.

Couldn't get worse, yeah? It's Arghest.

But then you get Shitember.

And the world is just expectorant in Awk-thoo-ber.

Nothing will work to your advantage. It's Nahvember.

The world will bite you into little pieces. Because it can. And because it's Decmember.

An amateur pessimist's guide to the days of the week

Today is Shatterday. It's when you contemplate the remnants of the dreams of your youth.

Tomorrow, on Shunday, you tell the world to bugger off and leave you alone, because what's the point we're all alone anyway.

Then, on Mournday, you weep for all that is lost and will never come back except in your dreams and then you wake up.

On Twosday, shit happens. Twice.

Ah, here's Whensday. The day on which you wonder if all that you have worked for and planned for will ever come to pass.

Every Thirstday, the arid desert of existence will parch your soul.

Of course on Fryday you wonder if there's anything to the Christian take on the afterlife, because then you know where you're headed.