So I guess it's the end of half-naked Santa week. I don't know about you, but I'm kinda going to miss Santa and his skivvies. Not like I like looking at half-naked dudes or anything, but anything that makes humans laugh so hard they spew drinkables is a good thing. Right?
Anyway. Today is full of all sorts of ends. It's the winter solstice thingy -- the beginning of the end of short dark days. It's also the end of the world. At least if you're one of those Mayan people. No idea, but that's what the NPR radioman said. It's also the end of my human staring at HAL4 like 24/7.
Short dark days make my human SAD, so I'm happy about the beginning of that end. I'm not a Mayan, so I'm pretty sure my world isn't ending and that's cool. The best end of all? My human is finally FINALLY ready to start sending pictures out to the Other 999. The official stuff will go out this weekend, but I'm so freaking excited about it - you have no idea.
No more hikeless, blogless days. No more sleepless, grumpy stressed out human or crazy ranting about how fawn pugs soak up bad color like cute little sponges and how blue sky and green grass are just so (HBO-word) evil. Yeah. That's right. She said pugs are sponges and grass is evil. Told you. Crazy.
|Cute little sponge (aka Otis, #527) before + after stuff that makes my human crazy|
So, Dutch will finally get to have a birthday. I'll finally get to celebrate Thanksgiving and wear the new dorky Halloween outfit Sophie's mom gave me. We'll start going to the dog park and Pug Sunday again and I'll get to see my friends. My human will start taking pictures of Pug #1 again. WITH NIKON.
I'm very excited about all these things. My human is excited about opening mail, vacuuming out Mazda and unpacking her suitcase, but she's a weirdo. We're both superexcited that the Atlanta Pugs and (everyone else) will finally get to be happy. All we ever want is for people to be happy.
PS: As soon as my human stops leaking, I'll tell you all about this:
I mean the awesomeness inside the box. The rest is just Frank.