https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nYww9rvQ4Q8
Happy New Year, everyone. I’ve been waiting for this moment for a very long time. Now I can unleash my wrath on anyone who used “It’s 2015” as an argument for anything. It’s no longer 2015, you fools — it’s 2016.
https://youtu.be/dnN4L_TFp0U
Not Slavic enough for my tastes. If they were squatting in a bombed out parking lot while wearing identical Adidas track suits, then I might be able to take them seriously. They have the hairdos down, but everything else needs work. No one is clutching a bottle of 100-proof vodak. They don’t even appear to have a 40oz handy.
Way out West there was this fella — fella I wanna tell ya about. Fella by the name of PSY. At least that was the handle his loving parents gave him, but he never had much use for it himself. PSY, he called himself PSY. Now, PSY — he didn’t make a whole lot of sense. And a lot about where he lived, likewise.
Christmas is approaching like an old Buick going too fast down an ice-covered road. It rattles along like a freight train, and there will be hell to pay if you’re not prepared for it to rip off your wing mirror and send you careening into an embankment. If you’ve run out of ideas for Christmas presents, and you’re still a few presents short of an acceptable Christmas bundle, you should buy a copy of our Poorly Wrapped Christmas Album. It’s full of Christmasy goodness, even though Christmasy isn’t a real word. Believe me, it’s good stuff.