I’m the kind of guy who’d pay to watch the apocalypse, not just because of the free entertainment, but also because I’d get to see the world burn down to a crisp, just like my relationships, my career, and my social life. It’s a cruel joke, really. I’m like a self-fulfilling prophecy, a harbinger of doom, a… well, you get the idea. I’m a walking disaster, and I’m pretty sure I’d make a great reality TV show. I mean, who needs ‘The Real Housewives’ when you have me, the humorist, starring in ‘The Real Catastrophe’?
I’m not just a master of chaos, I’m a virtuoso of victimhood. I can turn any situation into a joke, even if it’s just about me being a failure. It’s a skill, really. I’ve got a Ph.D. in making a mess, and I’m always looking for new ways to apply my expertise. I’m like a clown, but without the makeup or the talent. Just me, a sad, sad clown, making people laugh at my expense. And the best part? I get to pay for my own therapy, because let’s face it, I’m a lost cause.
I guess what I’m saying is, the apocalypse isn’t just about the end of the world; it’s about the end of my own personal sanity. And honestly, I’m looking forward to it. I mean, what’s the worst that could happen? The world ends, and I’m stuck in a never-ending loop of my own miserable thoughts. Sounds like a Tuesday to me. Bring it on, apocalypse. I’m ready to watch the world burn, and then laugh about it afterwards. Because, let’s be real, that’s what I do best.
>Soulkyn