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Jealous of everyone who missed out on the endless stream of utterly boring April Fools jokes on IRC which were boring me to tears. I was crying bone. đź©»
Good Friday used to be the boringest day of the year but now it’s April’s Fools Day. A day that’s an insult against comedy and taste. Every yawn-inducing bore-fest trite done-to-death over-templated clumsy cruel prank can go die in a sawmill.
“Yawn-inducing” is too charitable a word for these soul-grinding, suffocating, self-owning, sulphur-whiffed stunts, these pain-by-numbers pitiful parroted pratfalls.
Thank God for inventing time so it finally became April second in UTC. Every day, 364 days a year, when I wake up I thank the Lord the highest and the vinegar tasters and the imams and rabbis and the pebbles and trees that it’s not April first. And then once a year I wake up and I cry and cry and cry, because it’s the day when creativity gives way to cruelty, wit gives way to waste, taste gives way to testing my god-damned-patience with every lying little word that comes out of your mouths and keyboards.
I want to dedicate my life to poetry so I can, in the future, better express the full width of my unending hatred of not only this “holiday” but every single joker individually. For it burns with the temperature of four-hundred and ninety-three thousand, two-hundred and eighty suns.
My heartfelt thanks to all y’all who did not participate.