12.01.03 :: 10:13 pm

Tis the season of dry, bloody boogers. Welcome, December. Welcome, winter.

Don't overstay like last year, though, you lazy fat fuck.

Sometimes, my Stoosh-dog will be curled on the bed, and I won't know she's there and I panic for a second, like maybe she's out on the roof and she's fallen over the edge or something...

And then I call out "Stoosh-dog?" and her little brown and white face peeks out from some pillows, "Yesh?"

Nothing. I love you. I hope you stay with me for a very long time.

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