Fuck February.
Every February I become engrossed with bitterness and anger for no reason. All day, everything anyone says irritates me. It doesn't matter what they say, just the fact that they're talking, I want to hammer a nail through their earlobe, through their balls, and into the floor. Every time someone speaks to me, I hope miniature slugs creep into their room at night and quietly fuck all the pores in their face until their head explodes.
People start conversations with me using their cheery pastel attitude and all I can do is scowl at them in strong objection to their aliveness. Then they give me this bullshit, "Are you in a bad mood or something?" Brilliant appraisal, cocksmudge. Or even worse, they employ a dickass metaphore - "Looks like you got up on the wrong side of the bed." Yeah, I did. The side I usually wake up on was occupied by dense amassments of spite and disgust for you.
All month, I can't bring myself to be motivated to do anything but be miserable. I sit in my room alone and get angry at shit. Every event annoys me. Even if it's completely insignificant and irrelevant to my life, I just want to die. A bug lands on me, I get pissed off at the bug. I kill it, then i get pissed off at the dead bug shit everywhere. Then I clean it and I get pissed off because now I don't have anything to kill.
Here's something interesting. Throughout my entire life, I've marked down how many times I say, "Fuck you" every day. I compiled all the data and graphed it:
I'm certain that a big part of my sub-suicidal animosity this month is due to the weather. January is cold and snowy, but at least it has charater. February is bullshit. The day the calendars roll around, the sky clogs up like the nasal passages of a Jew with mono whos allergic to cats. All month, all I see is pale, ashy gray. It's like the 1930s came and overdubbed my life in monochromatic drab.
Here's a picture I took, mid afternoon downtown. Everything is gray and gloomy and depressing.
It's been like that all month. The grass turns to a decaying sludge, all the sidewalks are covered in dead animals, and the only girls who come out are hideous beasts of grimace and deformity. February basically sucks. Everything about is is horrible. And don't give me that "Black History" month garbage. Because however I respond could be considered racist by some twisted logic. However, from any point of view, I refuse to see how reflecting on centuries of brutal dehumanization of another race could possibly uplift the mood during this month-long period of anguish and glum. So drop dead.
I've decided it's time to change the zodiac sign of February. The regular old Aquarius doesn't suit it at all.
As the days of despair went by, between yelling at my laundry for no reason and wishing my house caved in, I got to thinking what the new sign should be. I looked up the sign for January -
A "capricorn..." A goat with a dragon tail. I'm guessing it shits fire. I don't know. Anyway, I zoomed in and saw this group of stars to the left of it:
I drew their dumb little yellow constellation lines around them that I hate for no reason.
I decided that, since February comes out of January, that the constellation should do the same. And, here it is -
Notice how there's tiny stars inside the constellation. I'm calling that capricorn.
I tried to think of something clever to name my new constellation, but I got distracted because I saw this kid at the grocery store buy generic Fruity Loops when the regular ones were on sale for the same price. I couldn't concentrate. I was so god damn mad. I crammed his entire body into the wax bag and said, "Eat your way out, you lobsterfaced grommet fuckball."
But I came up with one anyway. It's not clever, but it's better than Aquarius.
So to all the goat shits out there - happy fucking birthday.
Last updated February 8th, 2007