By Saint Dirty Face™

You ever notice how society’s collapsing faster than my motivation after lunch — yet somehow, the Wi-Fi signal keeps getting stronger?

Like, sure, the oceans are boiling, the rent’s unholy, and the government’s treating common sense like it’s an optional subscription.

But at least Netflix doesn’t buffer anymore.

We’ve hit a new level of absurd — peak apocalypse with premium service.

Gas costs more than therapy, and both still leave you crying in your car.

Politicians argue about which book to ban while TikTok influencers teach your kids how to “manifest money” by humming into crystals made in China.

Meanwhile, I’m over here trying to figure out if my soul’s under warranty.

And the workplace?

Corporate “family” meetings where you’re told you’re valued… right before being asked to work the weekend.

They call it “team spirit.” I call it “Stockholm Syndrome with a 401k.”

But it’s fine. Totally fine.

Because somewhere, an HR rep just sent another “We’re all in this together!” email from her yacht.

So pour a drink, light a candle, and toast to the end times, baby.

Because when the last light flickers and the last Karen complains to the manager of reality itself, you’ll find me where I’ve always been —

In the corner booth of chaos, raising my glass and saying:

“Stay dirty. Stay rebellious.™”