I think we can all agree that today is my birthday even though Tupac Shakur technically had it first because he is a huge show-off. Sure, lots of people were born way first-er than either of us, but I don’t really see how that is any of your fucking business. Can we not have just ONE relaxing peaceful drive-by this year without you mouthing off about bitches and math the whole time? That’s my job.

Speaking of jobs, isn’t it totally spooky that Tupac and I are both unemployed?? You don’t exactly need a PhD in astrological scientology to understand what’s going on here! Think about it: We’ve both seen Juice, we both look sexy in bubble baths, we both know all of the words to his fourth studio album All Eyez On Me, and we’re both dead on the inside. Which is where it really counts. I don’t want to say “reincarnated”, but I will type it. There.

Paratheological numerology aside, the sixteenth of June is a celebration of greatness, of achieving all of the achievements that one has achieved, of having, like…goals and shit, of being successful at whatever bullshit things you’ve wasted your entire life doing, only to fail because you can’t do anything right, I just keep getting older and nothing gets done, fuck this shit and fuck all of you. Yes, greatness—the likes of which may be found only in me and Tupac, i.e. just me now because he’s dead. Today is also Captain Picard Day, but he’s fictional so yep just me. I think. Right?? I’ll kill myself if a fictional character is greater than me OH GOD it’s CAPTAIN PICARD of course he is greater than me. But did I mention Tupac is dead? I hope so because that’s really all I’ve got going for me right now.

Sincerely,

Tupac Picard