And once the storm is over, you won’t remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won’t even be sure, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm, you won’t be the same person who walked in. That’s what this storm’s all about. – Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore
In two words, not good.
Two other words, holy fuck!
Those are basically our only options at this point.
And both terms considered partisan and fake science.
Hey, you!! Yeah, you.
Look at me, do not look at the dead bodies.
A tiny fraction of death, it is what it is.
Keep thinking, you knew in January.
Could’ve organized a shitload of ducks
and canceled everything for six weeks.
Starting on Groundhog’s Day.
February is our shortest month
and Black History Month.
So, there’s that.
The wife and I disguised
senior superheroes behind enemy lines
were in and out of the grocery
in under forty minutes and just over $170.
Would’ve been longer and cost more,
but the sushi chef was wearing his mask
below his chin like a necktie.