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2011: Out Like A Kitten
This is one of my roommate’s cats. His name is Bruce. I guess he’s my roommate now, too. It’s been almost a month and we’re getting along pretty well. He likes to sleep next to me on the couch and also he drools on my pants sometimes, which is not something I knew that cats did.
Look, I really was going to write a big year in review post about all the things I felt and said and experienced and did and didn’t do and wished I’d done but I think this sleeping cat picture is more than enough to sum up this year. I don’t even have to tie it all together with a tenuous, flimsy metaphor about being a cat that’s just now waking up after a year long nap… OR WHATEVER.
Everything is going to be fine. Forever. Because if it’s not, we’re all fucked. 2012 will be a year. The world isn’t going to end, sorry Mayans. The Dark Knight Rises is going to be great. Ryan Gosling will continue to help stubbly dudes with those thermal t-shirt things get laid. Beyonce and Rihanna will combine, Voltron-style into Bihanna, an amazing mega pop star. Maybe one of those things will not happen. But whatever the case, it will be a year. And I hope it’s a good one.
Drink smart tonight, weirdos. Don’t make any mistakes you can’t reverse in 3 texts. 4 if you’re desperate.