I am trying not to use the word “hate” in my writings, thus I am focused on words “I do not love” from 2020.
I am very critical of the entire year of 2020 and honestly expect it to be recalled with all of us receiving a Mulligan. Go ask a golfer what a Mulligan is.
So, with only two more days in this bastard, vagabond, vermin ridden, flotsam, jetsam, detritus, vomitus, infected bed bug bite of a year, here are some works I do not love:
We have three and a half months left in 2020, but I am already looking forward to New Years Eve to put this miserable year in its coffin — nail it shut, push it into a fire, watch it burn — ensuring it doesn’t escape the cleansing flames — rake up the ashes, bury them in unhallowed ground, and piss on its grave.
I am reminded of Dickens:
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way – in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.
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