Noo Year ees too moch pressure, man. Eberyone say you mos' make-a pardy. Parp champagne cork. Throw streamers.
Porque? Why? Essplain to me!
Ees one sorounded by one's lobeen' friends an family?
No!
Does one hab feesh?
No!
Deed anyone pool streeng?
No!
Ees there a friendly poossee to hang oud weeth?
Nard one!
Eenstead, the Yooman who ees suppose' to lorf you, an who hole's you when she need to coddle sometheen' sarft an' forry, an' who says Thank Gard por you Estorbo...she goes AWAY. She leabs. Depar's. Deesappears. An' stays there!!!
Does she send teecket?
No.
Does she mail feesh?
No.
Does she leab Chreestmas presen' por me to tear open weeth expectand claws arn Chreestmas Day.......?
No.
No. No. No.
Sheet.
I know she weell carm bag. She always does. Bod I yam telleen' you: NEBBER again. NEBBER. Read my leeps. The neghs' time she go, I go too. I am nard the cad who walked by heemself. I walk weeth someone. I lighe company. I yam Latin, man. Nard forgheen blordee Anglo-self -sofficient-Saxon...I need libe, company, action!
...and FEESH.
I cannard waid to see thad Canadian again. He knows how to tread a man.
