We all have our moments. Some are good and some are bad. One day we're making love on top of a mountain while simultaneously caging falcons. We go to bed fulfilled and signal to our new-found companion that it's time to initiate the night watch. Sure, we sleep comfortably knowing that a falcon has our backs, but something changes when the world grows still. We begin to stir, unsettled - tossing and turning. The hours float by but the dreams don't come, and soon that joyous bastard of a sun breaks the horizon once again. If that doesn't wake you, the blue jay will, and you should've killed that son of a bitch a long time ago.
Letting out an obnoxious groan, you open your eyes and stare blankly at your surroundings. For a moment, you don't know what the fuck you are. In your confusion, you begin to ask yourself existential questions. What is bed? What is white door? Why is me? Why is sheet? A fuse ignites in your brain and your sense of self-awareness comes flooding back. You feel agitated. You feel fatigued. You feel like pile of shit. Your bad day has arrived.
Now the catalyst of your current predicament could be an infinite number of things. It could be the cocktail of Jameson and methamphetamine that you consumed the night prior. Maybe it's more of an emotional aftermath. Sometimes no means no and all she really wants is a deeper commitment before she lets you put it there. Most of the time we can't even find the reason why we feel this way. Scientists will probably tell you that it's about science, but that's all speculative. There's no real evidence to support that. The truth of the matter is that it's fucking mystery, like the whereabouts of Tesla's research, or the existence of centaurs within modern society. We just don't know. We're powerless when it comes to such things, and without the help of grain alcohol, the only choice we have is accepting the hand we're dealt and moving on with a pessimistic demeanor. But what if I were to tell you there's another way?
No, I'm not going to question the adequacy of you or your partner's genitalia, or make some weak attempt to plug my book (available exclusively for you at the low price of $17.99 +S&H on Amazon). I mean, I could make millions if I wanted to sell the idea, but I'd rather do a great service to my fellow man and reveal it to you now, for absolutely free. So, if you're ready to feel better about yourself but a life of alcoholism just isn't for you, then perhaps it's time that you purchased a monocle.
Allow me to explain. Feeling better about yourself isn't always about bettering yourself. Sometimes all you really have to do is equip a fancy monocle and establish yourself above those who are inferior, ie; your immediate family and friends. See, it doesn't matter if you have a history of propane abuse or a few pesky counts of feline bestiality. Once you're wearing your monocle, you've already exceeded societies standards and graduated into the upper-class. An entirely new world of possibilities will begin to unfold at your feet. Aristocrats will be captivated by your charisma and extend to you their personal invitations to elegant social events. You'll earn the privilege of erecting your pinky finger while enjoying a glass of fine wine. Extravagant women will become infatuated during your phenomenal performance on the piano. Your former friends will frame photographs of you in your honor, blaming themselves for falling so far behind and wondering if you could have saved them -- if only they hadn't made fun of how weird your balls looked that Labor Day at the lake.
You'll learn that you're rather adept at growing a large, pristine mustache, and you may just win a couple of ribbons for it. You'll be the man of the hour; the life of the party. You'll be the gentleman and the scholar. But most of all, you'll be interesting.
Indeed, should you heed this advice and make such an investment, you'll live a rich and bountiful life, all credit due to a little bit of initiative and an exquisite glass monocle. May you reach new horizons. May you toast to new stars.
A'good tidings to you, and a'you, sir.
