I usually want the best for everyone, and don't spend too much energy wishing ill upon others, but I've had it. I don't want that fucking bitch to get the goddamned hippo! It's not he overwhelming impracticality, as I've been known to see past those issues when it comes to animals, nor is it the likelihood that a hippo would rather go about being a hippo, though I suppose most hippos don't dream of being Christmas gifts--no it's purely because I hate that fucking song. If grandma got ran over by a reindeer, why can't that brat get sat on by a hippo. There's no surviving that.
What's odd is that up until recently I was immune to this plague, and now I'm all to aware. This is worse than the bird flu, far worse. I'm no expert, but folks living among nasty ass birds should get sick. Who would expect anything else, but this hippo song is a plague upon a far wider and seemingly more innocent populous. I first heard about it from Liz, and even then I didn't know the extent of the annoyingness--mostly from my complete ignorance despite my being well versed in Christmas songs. Now I'm plagues by it, and I don't know how much longer I have--I don't know how much more time we have.