…said the sheep on Christmas Day.
“Baaa… humbug,” the sheep droned on and on until someone paid him attention.
Unfortunately, that “someone” had to be me since, when you’re dealing with sheep in my head, if you don’t pay attention to them they end up counting themselves and falling asleep… which makes it even harder for you to fall asleep because you were counting them in the first place.
“Baaaaaa… humbug,” the sheep went on before I said “OH WILL YOU JUST BE QUIET ALREADY!”
“Baaaa…”
I asked him what was eating him.
He said nothing. He said no one was eating him. No one was sucking his sheepish little dick, nor were they going near his mutton-y ass.
I don’t seriously know if the sheep I count in my head are gay or straight or bi — and I really don’t want to know — but you know something is wrong with the world (or at least me) when the very sheep I count to try and fall asleep are complaining about not getting laid.
Oh, and Happy Birthday Jesus, by the way!
And Happy Chanukaristmas!
And even Happy Bukkakakah to all of you whom are getting laid, or at least getting your faces sprayed with the jizz of a group of men you’ve never met and don’t plan to ever again.
I guess that was Christmas. Or Chanukah. Who knows really… it’s the holiday season. You give gifts. And drink. And be merry.
I’m quite jolly. Hell, I still plan on wearing my Santa hat. It’s festive.
At least until I can rig up a New Years Eve hat that launches fireworks at people on the street who could do with rectal fireworks.