And maybe have a smoke, too, what the fock, don't forget to be nice to yourself to boot this time of year or you might catch that depression making the rounds where you run the risk of going off on the kind of murderous rampage at the post office or shopping mall that's a recipe for disaster and can really put the dampers on the true spirit of the season, whatever the fock that is, I don't care who you are. Bon focking apetit, pally, your dish is done and ready to delight each and any nitwit ready to take a stab at it. So three guys die in a car crash 'round about this time of year. First guy gives St. Pete a gander at the Art Kumbalek souvenir mistletoe belt buckle he's sporting. And he lets the guy pass through the gates of Heaven.
Second guy comes up to the gate.
The guy rummages around and whips out a little something wrapped in tin foil. The guy unwraps the tin foil and it's a piece of fruitcake. St. Pete takes a bite and lets him in. Third guy, now. Show me Christmas.