These are dark times, friends. Literally! It's dark as hell all the time, because it is winter, and everything is polar vortices and bitter bullying winds and frostbite and uncontrollable sobbing and making a fort out of couch cushions and hiding inside the fort shrouded in sweaters and jackets and layers upon layers of paper towels and burning the paper towels for warmth, and sobbing. You go outside and your whole goddamn face chips off and shatters on the sidewalk, and you think to yourself that maybe that is a good thing, because at least now you look kind of happy, because skulls always look happy. Skulls. Why can't we all be them.