Son of an Itch.
Lately, have you been sortta feelin' like: Wintertime is comin' creepy crawlin' dead skin is fallin' cursin' and callin' and son of a building block or son of an itch, this is just terrible, shut the front door and holy coldness Batman, my skin is itchier than a muthafuggin' bitch!!?
What is up with that? Sweet Baby James, is this just Chicago or like happenin' eerwhere? Ve don't know what to do! But we fill like a party of red ants are givin' us the itchy bageechies and ve do not like it vone bit! Sometimes seasons changin' makes for a mad world, Gary Jules. Ve just want to fly to the moon with Jude today and be moonlight ladies. And eat cupcakes. Hmmpf!