sweet babies cry for the cool taste of milking

It is Christmas Eve, it is 8:21 am and I have to be at work in less than an hour. I am contemplating not moving from my bed at all. It may be less than 20 degrees outside. I don't have too much too say except that I would whole heartedly give up all drunken celebrations, pumps and inevitably torn stockings, and passionate celebratory midnight kisses if there were any way i could have this experience for New Years this year.

That is all.

Merry Christmas.