I know you aren't supposed to speak ill of the dead.

I can wholeheartedly apologize for not being at all sorry. And it really is the least I can do.

Orphans, dead parents, lonely children at Christmas, morose spoken word recordings, everything you love about the holidays. Move the turkey over so you can fit your head in the oven.

I had a migraine for about seven or eight straight days, and I was unable to sleep most nights.

I know you aren't supposed to speak ill of the dead.

I always like to get local music when I'm in another country.

I never have anything to talk about.