All night, my friends have been leaving kind and inspirational messages for 2014 on their time lines. And I’ve been racking my brain trying to think of something equally inspirational.
And then I remembered, I’m Irish, we don’t do inspirational. We do drunk and angry.
And since I don’t drink, that strips away about fifty percent of the juice I need to fully communicate how crappy this year has been. Personally, professionally and politically.
All I can say is this.
2013 can die in a fire, fueled by dicks lovingly soaked in Kerosene.
So, let me just say that the most I can hope for the coming year is that when it ends, we don’t have to break out the flammable dicks again.
Happy New Year.