Jordan McNelly was chugging along, living easy, ready to enjoy a nice day off when his mentally-incapacitated girlfriend sent off the unholy grail of 'wrong number' texts. I think our newly single bro back in the world of bachelorhood is getting off easy. Either way you deal this shitshow out, it hints at a serious mental mess of a girlfriend: she sent it off to him on purpose in attempt to initiate break-up in most brutal way possible; or she was so immensely clueless and careless she sent off a relationship-crushing text to the dude she was dating. At least the Twitter peanut gallery was around to step forward with much appreciated comedic relief.
Despite being the shortest month, few would disagree that February is indicative of the cold march toward death. It's grey skies, cold wind, and slush-covered grounds make even the simplest tasks appear pointless, another distraction from the grim realities of life.
Kevin Killeen of KMOX in St. Louis gives you the truth behind February, Father Time's cruel joke on humanity. In this segement, "Whole 'nother Story — February," Killeen delivers a harsh indictment of the calendar's worst, from the itchy skin to the lack of "tap dancin'" in the streets.
But, really, as he says, this broken umbrella says it all.
Killeen put it best:
"To try to hide the bleakness of February, man invented Valentine's Day and also Mardi Gras. But then February answered back with another holiday: Ash Wednesday. What other month could host holiday to remind us that we're all gonna die. That's February for you."
There's waking up on the wrong side of the bed, and then there's waking up in a rancid puddle of booze piss left by the ever generous 'blacked out' degenerate that is you; or what would appear based off this thread to be an unsettlingly high frequency of waking up alongside a scorpion or pack of spiders. NOPE. All the NOPE.