That’ll learn ya. Maybe.

I used to make up nicknames for people.

Now I do entire songs about them.

At my old apartment, I used to adapt Christmas carols “in the key of Dump.” I had dozens of ’em. People knew me because I was always the asshole singing through the hallways.

I sing when I drive, too. When I’m white-knuckling it amid the blue-hairs and wack jobs who got their license out of Cracker Jack boxes.

So now when I sit and sing, it’s my grandest hope that people don’t understand the words.

Or maybe my grandest hope is that they do.

Because, if someone making up lyrics about you doesn’t “learn ya,” I really don’t know what would.

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