Tomorrow night is New Year's Eve. Guess who your date is?
[panicked] Never mind about that about that ball-dropping stuff. Do you realize The Writer and her Husband are leaving us!!! For two whole nights and three days!
Yes, I know. They decided when they were at the Hope and Glory Inn in May they'd come back New Year's to celebrate the last few days of their 30th anniversary year. I think it's romantic.
I think it stinks! Who's gonna feed me?
They'll leave you plenty of kibble. It's not their fault you wolf down three days' of food before the door is closed behind them.
Look at what The Writer packed! Hazelnut Pirouettes, peppermint truffles, sea salt and onion potato chips, a Hickory Farms sampler box, mixed nuts, salsa, tortilla chips, cupcakes, caramel hot chocolate . . .
. . . and a darling chocolate bar wrapped in a vintage Bingo card, too pretty to eat.
My point is I'll be gnawing dry food and they'll be living high on the hog. Have you heard the weather report? It's gonna be icy, maybe even snow again. We'll probably get another 18 inches of snow and The Writer will have to stay in that fancy inn--
Don't blame me if there's another Donner party incident.
Winchester, I'm a stuffed animal. Unless you like eating 54-year-old cotton, I'm not much worried. Now tell everyone to have a happy New Year.
No! Why should everybody have a happy New Year when mine is starting off so crummy?
Then I'll say it: Happy New Year, everyone.