A post in which I explore the answer to the question, “Does anyone want to keep me company as I wander the beach forlornly and cry.”

The answer is no. No one does. Not even one person.

Now the reason I went on a morose shoreline stroll is that I did something bad.

Two days ago I found the most perfect, baseball-sized dead sea urchin on the beach. Not a crack! Already missing most of its spines so I didn’t have to fret about whether it was secretly alive. The day I found it was the second best day of my vacation, and the fifth best day of my whole life. I’ve been searching all week, and finally!!! A whole urchin! Not a dime-sized piece, not a spine, but a whole one! Oh, glory! Oh, rapture!

The problem was that, although I put it in a ziplock, it was stinking to high heaven, so I had to clean it. I used a bleach-to-water ratio that was too high and broke it into about thirty-eight tiny pieces.

This is the fifth worst thing I’ve ever done in my life, and the third worst I’ve ever done on accident. The chances of me finding another one are minuscule, and I am bummed hard. Major bummage. The bummiest of all bummers. Bummer II: The Bummening. Bumbelina. Two bums up.

I am feeling about twelve sad emojis in a row, plus a couple angry emojis, plus like eight emojis of that guy crying two vertical lines worth of tears down his face.

Sadness abounds. I am urchinless once more.

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How to Resolve Conflicts: Superhero Edition

IRON MAN: Bucky’s a bad guy. Remember all the bad things he did? You can’t be friends.

CAPTAIN AMERICA: Remember all the bad things you did when you didn’t know any better, creepy rich ex-arms dealer?

IRON MAN: You’re right!  People in glass houses shouldn’t call the kettle black!

[They high five and everyone’s best friends!]

BATMAN: I don’t like that you’re an alien.

SUPERMAN: I don’t like that you’re super violent.

BATMAN: I get that. But we should consider that our differences aren’t actually relevant in any way. That there’s a bigger picture here.

SUPERMAN: Like crime, and poverty, and systemic cruelty, and maybe, just maybe we’re being manipulated to make this more about our egos to distract us from what really matters.

BATMAN: Like that jerk Alex Luthor.

SUPERMAN: It’s Lex.

BATMAN: Whatever. No one cares. You should throw him into the sun.

SUPERMAN: That’d probably cut down on future worldwide misery, even though that’s immoral. I could throw the Joker into the sun, too, if you want.

[They gaze longingly into each other’s eyes and whisper, “Bro.”]

ALL OF X-MEN, IN THE STYLE OF A GREEK CHORUS: Go away, Wolverine! No one wants you here!  Take the Phoenix and go!

WOLVERINE: Do you spell “snikt” with or without a “c”?

ALL OF X-MEN, IN THE STYLE OF A GREEK CHORUS: You have had your share of the franchise. Now it’s someone else’s turn. Like Beak. He’s better than you. Like, way better. Like, a hundred times better.

WOLVERINE: No, but how do I onomotopoetize my claws?

[The rest of the X-Men team just wail until he gets on his motorcycle and drives away forever, thoughtfully chomping on his cigar as he mouths s-n-i-k-t or s-n-i-c-k-t,  s-n-i-k-t or s-n-i-c-k-t,  s-n-i-k-t or s-n-i-c-k-t.]