I don’t care what anyone says, “Mr. Brightside” is the greatest song ever made.

Imagine this- you’ve been coming out of your cage and you’ve been doing just fine. However, you’ve got to be down, because you want it all. It started out with a kiss, but how did it end up like this? It was only a kiss!

If this doesn’t sound familiar to you at all, you might as well stop reading this column; it’s not for you because you obviously have no taste. Harsh words, but truer have never been written. That’s right, friends, “Mr. Brightside” is alive and well.

You might be wondering how a song that came out in 2004 can be called the greatest when music has been around for almost a trillion years. The answer is simple- it’s simply that good.

That song was one of the only reasons I could stand to stay inside Stu’s for longer than 30 seconds back when I had a social life.

Of course the DJs would always ruin it by playing some crappy EDM remix where you could only tell the difference after the beginning section ended (they would do the same thing with “Welcome to The Black Parade”).

If you’re going to play a banger, play the whole thing, you cowards. Every time I would go into Stu’s and they would cut “Mr. Brightside” short to play their dubstep at just the right frequency to make every person in a 100 yard radius spill their drink, I’d be seconds away from fighting (and subsequently losing to) the DJs.

I feel like, if every person were to be subjected to a mandatory daily listening of “Mr. Brightside”, we’d likely see the end of warfare and 1,000 years of peace.

Not only that, but according to a doctor I found sleeping under the local overpass, “‘Mr. Brightside’ can cure any disease. There, I said it, now would you get outta here?!” If that isn’t the news of the century, I don’t know what is.

I’m going to be honest with you guys: that was actually all I had planned for the column this week. I, uh, don’t quite know where to go from here.

How…how’s your day going? Mine’s going okay, I guess. I made dinner for myself last night and it kind of sucked, honestly.

My mom keeps saying I need to settle down and, like, get hitched but who’s got time for that, you know? I’m in the prime of my youth and my back has only barely started to hurt on a regular basis.

This column really went downhill fast, huh? It seemed to have a pretty good start and yet here we are, having an awkward one-on-one conversation.

Oh! None of you tried to solve that National Treasure-esque puzzle I laid out in one of my earlier columns. What was that about? You guys are just too tired to do some extracurricular thinking?

It’s not like you would’ve solved it anyway; I made it literally impossible. But I bet you didn’t even try, did you? You probably saw that it was me writing it and immediately dismissed it as frivolous.

See, that’s just like you, I try my hardest to write total crap and you sit there and enjoy it! What’s wrong with you? You’re acting just like your mother.

Sorry, it’s been a tough week; it’s hard being a comedic genius and all. Anyway, this column has turned into a total dumpster fire. I can’t promise it’ll get any better in the weeks to come, but if you’re not used to my garbage by now I don’t think you’ll ever get there. See you next week, gamers!

Will Padgett is a graduate student majoring in being better than you. He can be reached at wpadgett14@gmail.com or 217-581-2812.