Partly Cloudy, 64°
In a dismal yet stereotypical display this past Tuesday, a glum fellow was seen trudging down the street.
“I drag my feet, I’m constantly grumbling, and I’m pretty much always crying a little bit. Why? My life is so fucking sad,” said the glum fellow, later identified as local Auntie Anne’s regional manager Craig Marshall. “My town flooded, then my house burned down. My wife shattered my CD collection and then left me for our accountant. I haven’t been to the dentist in 7 years, and I’m pretty sure I absorbed my twin in utero. To top it all off, I’m bald. So yeah, I trudge.”
“I saw a butterfly once, it was beautiful, I thought things were looking up. You want to know when? September 10th, 2001,” continued Marshall, ceaselessly trudging through the street as a raincloud began to form almost exclusively over his head. “I’ve been glum since before I learned what glumness was. I learned when I was 7, reading the dictionary inside during recess. My classmates would throw scrap metal at me if I tried to play with them.”
At press time, a merry fellow was spotted prancing.
