No. Don't. Stop.

I don't know how this happened. I used to love this shit. Now I feel like I want to die. Or at least throw myself down some festively decked stairs. I know it's my job to fix this, but when I feel it coming on I get all Gene Wilder as Willy Wonka and all I can do is unemphatically say "No. Don't. Stop."

I know someone who's not sleeping tonight.