Wednesday, December 12, 2012

12/12/12: You're Doing it Right

If you're reading this, it's likely you're not doing either of the following today:
  • Getting married
  • Having a baby
In that case, congratulations - you're doing 12/12/12 right (so as long as you're not standing in line to get "YOLO" tattooed on your body).

I get it - I understand why couples think it's a great idea to get married on a day like today.  I made quite the push last year to wed on 11/11/11, and I was fortunate enough to be turned down by every stranger I approached outside City Hall.  The thing is, couples getting married today are doing just that - getting married. The only marriage I would tolerate today is if it were that couple's 12th marriage. Now that's serendipity.

Many people marrying today are rushing it for the date. Marriage should never be comparable to sex with a stranger - it should never be rushed. The only activity we should habitually rush in life is liquor intake when running from life's problems into an ex. Marriage should be solicitously reflected upon in hopes that you mindfully consider backing out of it. Now, divorcing someone to celebrate 12/12/12 - that I can get on board with. Not that I think divorce is a celebratory occasion - who am I kidding - of course it is. You're breaking free of the chains one of you weren't entirely sure about in the first place. It's just too bad you didn't have the balls to follow through with your uncertainty on that unpropitious wedding day.  Additionally, today is a Wednesday - it's tacky to get married on a Wednesday (unless the reception speeches reference "hump day" numerous times). 

Having a baby today? There's nothing wrong with having a baby today, it's having a baby at all that troubles me. That requires something I hate more fervently than last call: selflessness. Yuck. Unless you're birthing this child for organ harvesting - oh, come on, not the vital ones - I'm not Satan.  I'm simply talking a kidney here, sliver of a liver there - things that could one day prolong your existence - those things are permissible. However, like marriage, organ-harvesting childbearing must be thoughtfully deliberated. Do you really want your matching-DNA-that-makes-for-the-perfect-organ-donation ruining the body you gave up food pizza for? Ruining the vagina you Kegeled tirelessly to keep favorable? More importantly, do you really want to give up your life as you've come to know it for a child that will grow to leave you for a mistake marriage of their own, for mistakes children of their own? Babies? Pass.

So, today, I raise my glass twelve times to you. Instead of partaking in some of life's worst greatest moments, you're drinking a dozen beers while diverting your attention from the movie Twelve by reading the novel Twelve with "The Twelve Days of Christmas" playing in the background, or you're drinking a bottle of Twelve Wine  thinking about what the Street Fighter character, Twelve would do to Steve Martin's disrespectful children in Cheaper by the Dozen.  I'll probably just watch twelve episodes of Sons of Anarchy, and buzz one out to Jax twelve times.  To each their own.

The only people that are doing today better than you are those partaking in the following:
  • Being born
  • Dying
Yes, the little shit-makers that are less than a day old are already exponentially better than you are.  Many of them will grow to accomplish great things, feats that you couldn't conjure up no matter the level your Adderall addiction spikes to.  More of them will grow to hate their mothers' 12/12/12 sacrifices completely as they perfect a1080 on that greased up pole hoping the few measly singles they scored don't drop out of the stringed cloth that has been delicately placed to hide the outbreak their Valtrex failed to subdue.  Keep it up 12/12/12 children.

I might add, that offing yourself to accomplish the latter activity, does not count - don't embarrass yourself by trying either.  Just think about how awkward the "R.I.P." posts on your Facebook page will be; no one wants your birthday reminder popping up postmortem.  Live for Facebook if for nothing else.

In summation, gentlemen, take those freshly shaved upper-lips of yours (as much as girls find pedophiles sexy, I'm glad Movember is over) and have a drink to celebrate not getting married to the girl that stopped giving you blow jobs after you put a ring on it; to celebrate not having a baby that you're not entirely sure is yours.  Ladies, take your questionable self-esteems and daddy-issue-riddled fashion choices out on the town to celebrate not sleeping with the same man for the rest of your life; to celebrate not worrying about society's standards of a quick baby-weight drop, not to mention that nipple chaffing situation.  Celebrate today like the asshole you are by doing some good solely to make you feel better about yourself.  Donate to Sandy Relief; donate to Big Brothers Big Sisters; donate to (read: like) me.  It's your best last-ditch effort to wake up on Jesus' birthday and find something other than a fat hairy old dude in red porking your mom coal under the Christmas tree.  And, not that you asked, but the only thing on my Christmas list is a pack of rechargeable batteries - apparently they don't last forever.

12/12/12 on my friends.  Twelve the shit out of today.

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