Plato keeps you contented. Nostradamus keeps you informed. I myself keep you in my clutches. We move into week two. Just remember, 'tis Winter Time.
Fields are barren.
You huddle in your coats, breathe into your cupped hands, drink cocoa and Cup 'O Noodle. The supermarkets install their new tape of holiday songs and forget to remove them until halfway through March. Winter Time is my time, and I won't have any Jesus or 8 days of oil muscle into that. So I leave you with these thoughts Fuck Christmas. Fuck it with a pogo stick.