It could be any of the following:
(i) The Heat (is on. On the street)
(ii) The monster (is off. Her rocker)
(iii) The mind-numbing-ness of invigilating an exam (its true, known to happen)
Originally the Rhythm Was Gonna Get Me. Thankfully, it has done nothing of that sort in the past
420 months of existence. Heavens! Its that dreaded number. Roop Mahal Prem Gali types. Excuse me please!
The Child Is Not My Son! Because its my daughter.
Its not a Sunday but still, What A Black Day? This saturday.
Really, there were Bloodstains On The Carpet Since the monster got her toe stuck in the door and bled just a little but cried a lot.
But then, overall, less trouble than if there were Satin Sheets on the bed, thank goodness for cotton.
Gotto go, but really How Can I Resist You. I am bound to be back.