ain't a darn thing wrong with bein' cozy
The winter months usher in the Cozy Season, and as I sit here curled-up in my PJs, wearing my Bart Simpson slippers, sipping on my egg nog, and swaddled in a comforter, I can't think of a cozier man on the whole fucking planet.
I told this chick I know that I was going to write about being cozy, and she snapped, "Oh, didn't you write about that the other day?" and I was taken aback by her outburst. Why's she gotta be a hater? Snuggling and coziness are NOT the same thing. First of all, you need another person with whom to snuggle properly, while coziness can be achieved in the quietest depths of solitude. And you can snuggle on the warmest spring day, while coziness implies that you've found sanctuary from hostile elements.
All living organisms strive to be cozy. Out on the plains, seeking refuge from the pounding rain, the beasts of the field huddle under trees and retreat into caves, searching for one thing:
Coziness.
You're darn tootin' I like bein' cozy. The world would be a better place if everyone was a wee bit cozier. It's a free country. I'm gonna get as cozy as I can stand it, and there ain't a goddamned thing that you or your military-industrial complex can do to stop me.
