Okay, new plan. I’m going to create a company called “Fuck You Flowers.” Obviously, it’s like a candy gram, except instead of candy or beautiful flower arrangements, it’s dead flowers. The delivery man will smell bad, blow cigar smoke in your intended’s face, and deliver some trite and insulting message. Perfect for break ups, quitting a job, or mothers-in-law. For Christmas, a half-drunk Santa would show up with some dead poinsettias and some candy canes. He breaks the candy canes in front of you and leaves. You know you’d use it. You’re thinking of someone right now.

This is the universe being awesome.

You wish you were this awesome.