Good for you, you survived 2025 and all the BS...
After a year of gaslighting and incompetence, the grown-ups are done waiting. Time to speak up — louder than ever.
Thanks for the Madness, 2025. Now Let’s Light 2026 on Fire.
Well, we made it. Barely. If 2025 had a face, it’d be duct-taped to a blender. Half “thanks for the memories,” half “you son of a—never again.”
But here we are. Still standing. Still swinging. And if you’re reading this, it means you stuck around through the noise, the nonsense, and the non-stop attempts to gaslight you into thinking 2 plus 2 equals racism.
So first — thank you.
Not the fluffy kind of thank you. I’m talking about the real deal. The kind you give to the people who showed up when the sky was falling and the meteorologists were too busy checking their pronouns to notice. You stuck around. You called BS when the media tried selling fertilizer as filet mignon. You held the line. And I saw it.
Now, let’s talk about the chaos we just survived.
2025, in no particular order of dysfunction:
AI replaced 40 percent of white-collar jobs. But don’t worry, the experts say it’s “liberating.” You’re not unemployed: you’re AI-adjacent.
The southern border got so porous, even Amazon started offering Prime delivery from Tijuana.
Gavin “Governor Haircut” Newsom banned plastic forks, then hosted a $10,000-a-plate fundraiser using gold-plated spoons.
Taylor Swift teased a presidential run and suddenly half of America confused tour merch with campaign slogans.
The housing market became an episode of “Survivor,” and somehow a tent behind a Whole Foods is now considered a starter home.
But wait. We’re just getting warmed up.
Because 2026 is coming in hot. And if you think it’s going to make sense, I’ve got beachfront property in North Dakota I’d love to sell you.
Here are my “absolutely insane but somehow still possible” predictions for 2026:
California passes a law limiting how many times you can exhale per day to combat climate guilt.
Biden delivers his State of the Union via interpretive dance because his teleprompter unionized.
Kamala Harris launches a podcast called Word Salad Wednesdays. No guests. Just vibes.
The CDC recommends helmets for emotional safety.
Congress creates a Department of Equity Feelings. Their budget? Bigger than the Pentagon’s.
Trump returns to Twitter, renames it “TRUTH++,” and challenges Zuckerberg to a debate on a hot air balloon.
And here’s the real kicker, half of that sounds less ridiculous than what we just lived through.
So again, thank you.
For not losing your mind. Or maybe for losing it strategically. For staying awake when half the country keeps hitting snooze. For being the kind of person who doesn’t need a fact-checker to know when they’re being peed on and told it’s raining.
I don’t know what 2026 is going to bring. But I do know this; we’re not going quietly. We’re not giving in. And we’re damn sure not letting the King of the Leg Peeing Liars write the ending.
Happy New Year.
Let’s raise a glass, sharpen our pitchforks, and make 2026 the year the grownups took the mic back.
I’m ready if you are.