To the tune of Silver Bells, the children laughing part, and inspired by a flailing lawn-Santa down the street, my refrain – which I obviously can’t – goes like so…
Not to be a drama queen but going to work every day feels like a fucking sentence or maybe more of an essay or maybe a fucking dissertation on the sudden proliferation of Flying Fuckaroos narrated by (pause) David (pause) fucking (pause) Attenborough (sigh)