“D (in an especially whiny voice): oh please save me from bad high school marching bands playing christmas music while i’m sitting here at lunch time outside trying to have a nice peaceful smoke. oh my goooood. my office building is, like, the parking lot separates us from... a high school. **bitter chuckle** and they’re HORRIBLE. and deck the halls with boughs - boughs of holly has never sounded more like a dying elk EVER in my lifetime. the note’s in there somewhere kids, you can find it, i’m sure. there’s only eight to choose from - pick one... and hopefully it will be right! oh god, it’s horrible. so i’m being serenaded by bad christmas music and it’s not even thanksgiving yet. oooooooh booooooy. **sighs** that’s it. just calling to bitch and moan and whine in my journal. goodbye! **click**”