Oh, It's the Bob and Tom show.

Josh here. You know this holiday season I wanted to write a song about someone I admire, respect, and love.

I couldn't think of anyone so instead I wrote a song about Tom Griswold or as I like to call him

Mr Gris.

You're a mean one.

Mr Gris.

Mr Gris. You're a mean one. Mr. Griz. You really are a jerk. You're insulting and demeaning. You're a

prickish piece of work, Mr. Chris.

You're a frozen-hearted ass bag and you drive us berserk.

You're a nutcase.

Mr. Griz. You truly are insane.

You're a certifiable cycle with a highly abnormal brain, Mr. Grish.

Your mental illness is something even the finest psychologist cannot explain.

You're so boring, Mr. Griz,

those stories you repeat. Your references are dated and your knowledge obsolete,

Mr Gris. Griz.

Listening to you makes us all want to lie down in the middle of a busy street. You're repulsive, Mr. Griz.

You have no allure.

You're as sexy as a scrotum covered in syphalytic sores, Mr. Chris.

You've got all the sex appeal of a steaming pile of manure

You're a child Mr Griss

Your jokes are juvenile.

...