Dark Day

Some days are so awful that they deserve notice.

Thirty-three years ago today, I was born. This inauspicious event, down in sleepy Biloxi, Mississippi, has led to untold sadness for millions around the world.

There's no excuse for my existence; as I was conceived after Roe v. Wade, my parents could have chosen not to burden the planet with my existence. That my mother carried me to term says something about her misanthropy.

So weep a little bit today--for humanity, for the world, and for the fact that I continue to exist.

Not only that, I'm not going anywhere soon. I've got another forty years left in me fueled just by spite alone.