God, Sundays are the worst, aren’t they?
The week is a long, treacherous road of drudgery in which you spend most of your time commuting with a million other miserable sturgeons and working at the whim of the all mighty Microsoft Office Suite. All of this, of course, is the sacrifice we are willing to make so we can enjoy God’s sweet sweet gift to the earth we call “The Weekend”.
Ah, yes, the weekend is a glorious thing. Remember that feeling you would get in elementary school, when you opened the door from your classroom to the playground for recess? Well, the weekend is like a 48 hour version of elementary school recess, only the world is our playground and there is alcohol involved.
I say “48 hours” because Sundays don’t count. When was the last time anyone had the same amount of fun on a Sunday as they do on Fridays and Saturdays? Answer: never! Sunday Funday? I think not! Sure, I’ll drink and watch football, but I still gotta go to freaking work the next day, even though I thought I was just finished with the work week. Geez! The payoff is hardly worth it!
Sundays are like that kid in your 5th grade class who you thought was totally cool until he told the teacher that you were secretly playing Tetris on your Game Boy under your desk instead of reading A Wrinkle in Time. Thanks a lot, Buzz Killington.
You know, thank God for football
and Breaking Bad, otherwise the world on Sunday would be a horrible place. Actually, even with nonstop football, the world is still an awful, hangover-ridden place. Some people would argue that Mondays are worse, but I say nay! On Mondays, at least you have already killed one day out of the work week. Sundays are the worst because of that nagging dread of the long 5-day week ahead.
So, on Sunday, when you’re staring down the gun barrel of a long week ahead, remember to always wear a clean pair of underwear, and never forget the little things in life – like music, sports, and free beer – that keep you happy. That’s what this blog is meant for, anyway*.
*underwear not included