I don’t tell my coworkers my birthday because everyone makes a big deal out of it, or celebrates it.

But for me, I can no longer shake the thought of “goddamn, should I celebrate because I survived one more year, or celebrate because the likelihood of death has come that much closer.”

So it kind of makes me in a twisted mood on my birthday where I’d rather just like to eat and play video games uninterrupted. My first birthday being single is coming up so I don’t even get to do the usual joke to my ex “what no birthday blowjob?”

I don’t like birthdays. As a kid they were awesome until my dad decided those candles that don’t go out would be funny on my 13th. After that I realized birthday’s are just a stupid way of gauging our physical and mental capabilities. 20 years later and it feels the same

I’m hoping aliens invade so i can be a stowaway. I’ll bring some water and food to last a few days before getting the balls to make myself known when they leave the planet. They’ll either kill me or experiment on me. Either is fine with me as long as they don’t send me back. Just let me take a leak/shit real quick in whatever version of a toilet u got first please.

First you think everyone is doing a horrible job running things. Then suddenly you get to run things, and do an even worse job.

… at least somebody told me that that’s how it went for somebody else.

This was me in my last consulting project.

90% of the time I see the world “world run by” and “clowns” it’s transphobia, here’s to hoping it isnt the case this time