Good evening, Everybun!
Winter got here, and it's too cold to bellehache. The long weekend is closing slowly, and the mood is sour.
The good news is that Charlie and the murderizer are doing well. No sneezes, and everybun wants cookies.
My hoomin sat with me this morning, and I let him rub my head for a few minutes - he thought he won the lotto. Lost his mind. He's been arting since. And the evening is young.
Goodnight and good luck!
- Gus
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