Happy People Are Annoying

by Josh Peck

You are an amalgamation of trauma; I hate to break it to you. There’s a good chance that someone in the past five generations of your ancestral tree lived an incredibly unfair existence. So unfair in fact that their sole purpose was survival and the thought of living a good life didn’t go much further than making sure they had enough to eat that day. Can you believe that? No bucket list? No vision boards? I didn’t stand a chance at being normal, and I’m guessing if you picked up a book with a sassy title like this one, you didn’t either. My birth alone was fraught with an innumerable amount of fuckery (more on that in chapter 1). However, because the instinct to procreate is so deeply embedded in our brain, because the best part of having kids is making ’em, our ancestors threw caution to the wind, along with any and all forms of contraception available at the time, and said, “Screw it! Let’s do it!” They could have spared us this odd experiment that is existence, but they didn’t and thank God for tequila, lest many of us would have remained but sparkles in our parents’ eyes.