Happy Poems for Idiots: Murder Day by Jeremy Bauer

Good news! Today, murder is okay for you. So you can walk right up to your mean-as-tits-dude boss and blast him into grease. All governments have been notified, and no one else has this power, so you can scare your dad 'cause he's been real gah lately and wants you to pay rent and won't even take your Firebird to the shop after an awesome Wasted Wednesday. This oughta teach the world to be such boners, and yeah, this would be a good time to get that Miller High Life hat, or ask out that cashier you think about in wiggling ways. All TV stations are reporting, "DO NOT MESS WITH THIS BAD MOTHERFUCKER," on repeat, and in a sexy way. And what you're probably gonna do is get as loaded as you can in the middle of your old high school gym until you pass out underneath the bleachers where the real good cold spot is. You'll forget all about murder, but it's about the experience, man, and you'll know you're the only one that really lived on Murder Day. And the sun will be shining like an eggplant filled with sugar pie.