2018 could eat a glitter-bombed bag of sugar-free gummy dicks. Everything about 2018 sucked in ways large and small and no part of my life was left untouched by the swirling fecal sewer that was the year 2018. I had hopes that 2019 would be better.
So far this year, I've had two articles published, got an accolade that I cannot share with the group, already hit my health deductible for the year, am finally free of Comcast, and just bought a new camera.
It was -10° then four days later it is +70° and fucking thunderstorms. We've already had more astronomy programs so far this year than all of last winter, and the second half of February (one of my favorite times to be outside) is looking cold, wet and terrible. Come on 2019, stop looking at 2018 for ideas you damned cunt.