Well here I sit. It’s New Year’s eve. I’ve had some beer. Canadian kind, with the good alcohol content. Feeling a smidgy tipsy right at the moment here.
I’m in a good mood, mercifully enough. Not too sad, or angry or bitter or nothing.
FUCK DOGS dude! They are still hanging out and about, barking their asses off every time they see shit. We need to come up with a plan like, tomorrow and shit to dealwith them. Either bring them in and feed them something, or send their asses to doggy heaven.
There’s a question fer ya. Where did the animals go when they died? Are they stuck in the shit other world, or has this affected them at all? Fuck dogs man.
Otis for the win.
I love my cat.
He’s chilling on the bed with me right now, not fucking barking. Nor does he eat a lot. He have cat food for him for a year if it doesn’t rot first. Fuck dogs man. What would we feed dogs? We didn’t collect dog food all this time. I bet it’s all rotten and shit. WE’d have to fgeed them our food, and fuck that man. We need all of our food.
We need a plan. A good one. One that doesn’t involve me doing shiznat, because all I’d do is head to the top of the wall with my new weapon, and shoot the strays that could bite me in the dick. The small ones can stay, but if they keep barking, I’ll punch them in the dick.
I love beer.
I hope next year is better than this year was. I want less of my friends to die next year. That’s all I want. That’s all I fucking want.
I want my friends to stop dying.
Cheers to that toast.