Dear Mr. Corona Virus,
March 12th and its 8pm. I’m at home visiting my parents for the night. We just finished an amazing ham loaf (fucking disgusting. My mom needs to stop trying new things from Facebook) and I just sat down with my dad to watch tv. Poured myself a third old fashioned. My dad says his classic line “are the bruins on tonight?”
It’s that moment. We didn’t know what to do. This was an everyday affair throughout my life. My dad would finish his second glass of wine and fall asleep 7 minutes later. I’m just confused. Lost.
Instead, we are watching a show called Station 19. It’s a shitty offshoot of every other fire department shows. “Oh no, there’s an accident. Everyone’s dead. I’m going to do my job then make a bad choice with my co-worker and seriously consider smoking weed that will but my career in jeopardy”. Pretty much it.
What am I supposed to do now? Read a book? Not likely. Do work? That’s what the weekday is for. Learn a new language? Why. I really don’t know. I don’t have much to fall back on. Am I supposed to go to a bar and watch a talk show? WHAT ARE THEY SHOWING AT THE BARS NOW? I can’t believe this.
I’m over this. Coronavirus, you’re ruining everything. Sports, family tradition, toilet paper. The list goes on. I don’t know if I should blame the media or the open borders or if it’s actually a big deal but I’m over it. It’s time to calm down. Bring back sports. Let me make money with my picks, and let me have my life back. You’re a bully. Just mean. Go back to wherever you came from. This is America.
We will send the Army, the NAVY. DO YOU KNOW WHO THE MARINES ARE?! We are going to destroy you. We have bombs and guns and freedom. The US is very experienced in wars. We haven’t lost. It’s go time. I’m RALLYING THE TROOPS. All-out war.
Check yourself before you wreck yourself Corona.
Jimmy “out of toilet paper because he didn’t stock up and now has to stay with his parents” Dingers