April 20, 2010

2010 turning out less than stellar

WTF, 2010?? You were supposed to be better than this! You were supposed to by the antonym of 2009. You were supposed to be the light at the end of the tunnel, the pineapple upside down cake at the end of the bad Chinese food, the money shot year at the end of the decade of amputee porn . You were supposed to be everything 2009 was not: cleaner air, more work, better health, and - quite significantly - less death.

But you're letting me down, 2010. You're not even in full spring yet and you're becoming a very disappointing year. You're the son I want to disown, the tenant I want to evict, the pet I want to put down. By February, I could not have been more disappointed in you, I thought, yet daily you continue to astound me with the amount of fail and suck that you embody.

Need you ask why? You know why. I don't think I need to list all of your minor failings, the ones that everybody are shaking their heads in shame about. The piss-poor winter weather that followed no known approved Winter plan, the complete suckage in movie offerings, pinacled by the most expensive movie ever that turned out to be a rather dull tale of Smurfs and Marines. Or how about the continuing job losses, the blows to the local economy that's keeping any of us from recovering, the wholesale erasure of Poland's rulers, or the damn volcano that's bankrupting the world's airlines, again?

Oh, to be sure, you sometimes have grudgingly offered up a ray of hope. Sometimes I think maybe you might turn out OK. Such as today's run:

This was pretty good. But let's be honest; this was more me, than you, wasn't it, 2010? I'm the one doing IVs and Prednisone and suffering the jimmy-legs in order to obtain, what?, a faster pace by 15 seconds?

No, 2010, your failures are resounding. From divorces to closed theatres, from shitty tenants to a shittier Department of Buildings, you seem to excel at failing. Worst of all is that you seem to delight in jerking me around, giving with one hand and taking away with the other. For instance, you held off on the lung infection 'til mid-March, but then give me incompetent home nurses, limited doses of IV antibiotics because of renal function dangers, and - the cherry on this particular cake - my first-ever yeast infection on my fucking lips that made little kids on the subway cry!

And it gets much worse, don't deny it! Just how many of my friends are you going to kill this year, hm? Last night I find out one fellow CF warrior fell, then mere minutes later found out another one, this time an actual friend, Mike Laird, also passed away. Back in November 2009, you promised me you'd do better. Your whole campaign was run on the promises of less death and more work. Well...I'm still looking for more work and you keep killing people. Just now I found out that my neighbor Tony, a fine man of 76 years, passed away just after Easter. I really liked that guy, asshole! Who's next? The Fat Man? Oh, you'd just love to break some more hearts, wouldn't you?

I'm sick of this. I'm going to give you one more chance, 2010. I'm well aware you have more shit lined up, such as the end of the entire shuttle program - and with it the space age, at least in my lifetime. I'll let you share the blame on that one with years 2004-2009. But seriously, if you can't shape up, if you blow it, then I'm moving on. I'll start ignoring the very fact that you're running your course and instead start putting my stock in 2011. 2011 may not be looking too pretty, but at least it doesn't have a fucking rap sheet! Oh, and in case you're wondering, it's not me, it's you.

(Read this as Baby New Year instead of Cupid, m'kay?)

Cyanide and Happiness, a daily webcomic
Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

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