If any of the rest of you fuckers want to waste my time this year, you’re at T-2 and counting. I suggest you pick up the pace of your weak ass game.
Look, this year…bruh. I mean, if it were a vehicle, it would be a Chevy Citation. If it were a song, it would be anything by Taylor Swift. If it were a columnist, it would be my fucking moping ass.
I’m so ready to get it done. Banged out. Over with. Through.
I’m ready to give it a nickname like I do my exes, and laugh about it publically.
I hope all of you Bitchfaces are having some sort of excitement if you want it, and the rest of you have some serenity if you have earned it.
We know where I am, with my bedraggled, moping, unfuckgiving self. So, if you need me, you can get me on the hotline. However, if you fuck up and try to get me on the Zoom, that’s your own fault, dummy. I told you I look exactly as I feel.
I appreciate y’all for riding the ride with me.
Let’s just get this shit in the rearview, shall we?
I love y’all.
Your Queen
I’m with you 100% on putting a pin in 2020 and the entire shitshow it represented. I know your end of year sucked worse than mine and I hope things improve rapidly in the new year.