Yeah, Merry Christmas to you, too.
Or, I guess I couldn't say "to you, too" since I haven't received it.
You were whining like a pissy bitch that you're not going to Argentina anymore.
And you beat the fuck out of me due to being upset.
My throat hurts like I've been bulimic for a month again because of your arm.
And I've been babying you this whole time since you have to spend Christmas alone.
Paying for half your train ticket to come here and continue getting spoiled.
Buy you In N Out.
But no, you couldn't think of me today to call me and wish me a Merry Christmas.