Friday, funday, beer, it’s a happy drink, right? Glitter, is that glitter?

Last summer is still in our minds.

But as that cat definitely knows, it’s Friday, the fun, nothing signifying idiot day of the week. Maybe not an outright idiot, but basically the silly good looking friend of Tuesday.

The true, almost metaphysical problem with Friday, and the weekend in general, is that it is a small, fun break between its more serious Mondays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays & Thursdays.

It’s the same thing with any vacation. Their quantitative lack in comparison to the larger year of toiling is a signifier of the nature of everyones life.

We are toiling creatures, by design one could say, and yelling ”thank god it’s Friday!” only emphasizes our captivity inside the larger week, the qualitative substance of Friday and by emission the rest of the week.

For there are 4 days that are not usually celebrated. There is today, the one halfling that has the beauty of having one foot in work & another in fun. Saturday is the true vacation of the bunch, and Sunday is that odd old age of the week, when you look into the existential abyss and wonder.

Anyway, only one piece of information is necessary to truly live a happy life, and here it is:

A tux is never just a tux. It is anything and everything that is imbued with the metaphysical, eternal qualities of royal tuxness.

And that is why I too will say TGIF.



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