I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas

So a few weeks ago, in a moment of sheer lunacy, I wrote a little diddy. It just happens to be to the tune of a well-known Christmas carol. I’m pretty certain that not all of my lines actually fit into the song, but you’ll have to give me a break. It was over 100 degrees outside and I was sitting in the sun.

So, here goes nothing:

I’m dreaming of a cold A/C
With temps that go below 75
And cold, iced potable water would be nice
‘Cuz all day all I dream about is ice

I’m dreaming of sausage and bacon
And all the pork that I can find
Smoked or grilled, so tender, not dry
Tenderloin, chops, pulled pork, ribs with spice

I’m dreaming of a Serta mattress
Not wooden planks with foam on top
Grant me eight whole hours at night
In a cool environment without any flies

I’m dreaming of some shorts and tank-tops
With every day that passes by
I wear pants and sweaters in summertime
If I didn’t know better I’d think I’ve lost my mind

I’m dreaming of a day without ishaal
Even twelve hours would be nice
I’ve finished all my Cipro this time
I’d thought two doses of Cipro would last my life