And I don’t care because both my grandmas were fucking awesome.
I have been wandering around the house, vacuuming up the pug hair, because man oh man, pugs shed. One pug sheds. Two pugs shed… but three… the hair loss scales up a bit more than you’d think with each one. The eye boogers, though. Jesus. That’s a whole different equation. I have found them on the ceiling, high on the wall across from the stair landing… I don’t know how the fuck they do it. They don’t even come up to my knees.
Anyway, vacuuming up pug hair around the house, with shorts on, but wearing polka dotted compression socks because my feet are swole as fuck, but in a bad way, and I am swearing to myself about politicians. Okay, by “to myself” I mean loud enough that I’m kind of afraid I emotionally scarred the dogs, but whatever.