What Happens Next: A Gallimaufry

melancholic romantic comic cynic. bi & genderqueer. fantasy writer. sysrae on ao3.

listen, 2016 has been That Sort Of Year, so I’m already bracing for someone beloved and famous to die on like, December 29th, or maybe a fucking millisecond before midnight on the 31st, not because I in any way want this to happen but because 2016 is the temporal personfication of Because Fuck You, That’s Why

the alternate possibility is that 2016 feels a last-minute surge of Scroogelike redemptive goodness and decides to off an utter bastard instead, preferably Rupert Murdoch choking to death on an ortolan that beaks him right in the trachea 

guess which option I’m rooting for

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  14. brainsforbabyjesus reblogged this from fozmeadows and added:
    Personally I’d nominate the Martin Shkreli’s of the world for the last minute redemptive goodness of 2016.
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