Happy endings are really happy middles or happy beginnings. Or, they could just be happy events, and there might be no such thing a beginning, a middle, or an end. That’s most likely correct, and the hardest to deal with in this human mind of mine.

A happy event has graced me. More accurately, the negation of an infuriating event corrected the cause of an unfortunate grim attitude of mine. So, yeah, a happy event. Two important results have been birthed from this event. The first, and most important in the long run, is that I haven’t been dicked over one more time by corporate America. The second, and most important in the short run, is that I’m gainfully employed. Both of these, while not completely renewing my faith in a system as broken as the one we live in, are happy events.

There is a dirty, grimy, disgusting place filled with vapid people, angry bouncers, and spilled drinks. It’s in the middle of downtown Detroit, and it’s a goddamn amazing time. I’m going there on the night preceeding the traditional day of rest. and will be joining me, and may even get me to shake my sweet, sweet posterior to the sternum-vibrating bass. I’m of the opinion that you should join us. Especially you and you and you and you. Now that I give this a second thought, I think everyone that is here should be there the night after tonight.

You know you want to. ;)