It’s International Write All the Dates Wrong Day Week Month, and I hope you’re suitably hungover as a result of merriments yesterday, which was International Kill the Fucking Year Already Day. Someone should really figure out some better names for these oh so very special days.

So it’s 2020 and I’ve yet to do anything productive with it, or decide what that should be when I finally haul my fuzzy mind out of the sleep-deprived state it currently resides in. When I do, y’all be the first to know. For now, leftovers I guess?

Drink all the 10s!

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