|Gus, "Sorry, not sorry, your gizzard is sore. And it's not sore enough."|
|Espresso, "It's the end of June, and the ice you're on is only getting thinner. Thinner and thinner."|
|Charlie, "If you know a good onomatopoeia for a soul-piercing silence - let the hoomin know."|
Good evening, Everybun!
We ended up resting all day after the torments of yesterday. My girlfriend is still mad about that bum baf from last night. After getting the nose drops, Spresso wants a contract on my hoomin.
Have no worries, though - you should see the tracks karma left on the hoomin's back. He went to an urgent care clinic this morning and walked away with a referral for a CT Scan and a big bag of zip, nada, and bupkis. Good.
But then I heard he took some Nexium and now feels better. So he decided to paint for a few hours.
And my best friend, Espresso, the Murderizing? He's doing much, much better. No sneezing, sniffling, or harrumphing. Go figure
Good night, and good luck!