It’s too darn hot…

…so I’ll keep this short and sweet. Well, medium and surly more like, but you know what they say about blog posts resembling their owners. (That’s pets, you say? Eh, potato tomato.) It’s 91 with a heat index near 100, I think it’s unreasonable to expect anyone to be pleasant (though, kudos to those who manage anyhow).

So.

TWO. THOUSAND. SIX. TEEN. (SIDE RANT: WHEN SOMEONE IS READING OFF A LONG NUMBER FOR YOU AND ARBITRARILY CHUNKS SOME INTO NUMBERS INSTEAD OF DIGITS SO YOU WRITE OUT A SIX AND THEN REALIZE YOU NEED A ONE IN FRONT OF IT. WHYYYY.)

I know people kind of say this about every year, or they have been for a while at least, but c’mon 2016. You kind of suck. And it’s not just all the awful things people do and say to other people, it’s a bunch of completely unpredictable other things that just decided to happen at the same time because why not. As of 2015 I’d never even really considered attending a funeral, because in all that time nobody particularly close to me had died. In 2016 I had myself checking when/if services were being held for three different people within a month. And anyone with a face, pretty much, will have gotten at least the Cliffs Notes of all the less-personal unpleasant news from the year so far. I kind of want to just go live somewhere utterly unremarkable, that nobody’s ever heard of and nobody’s fighting over. But of course, that still wouldn’t help my friends and family who live in the actual real world.

A castle might be nice, though. A big, damp, chilly castle that’s basically a glorified primitive campsite, but possibly with wyverns. Grumpy wyverns I can make grumpy faces at, and they’ll grumpy right back, like a big scaly owl.

Yeah.

I could bring everyone I know and cram them in various spare towers and the wyverns could heat the place, I guess, if you’re into the whole not-constantly-having-the-sniffles lifestyle.

This grumpy-guts I drew in the blissfully air-conditioned public library during a 96-degree day that really wasn’t good for anything but reading (The Tygrine Cat, which is out of print but I got on interlibrary loan all the way from Abilene, TX, because libraries are amazing) and drawing. But I don’t even know how wings work, it just … I guess I didn’t fly enough kites as a child or something, because I cannot wrap my head around these things, but they’re folded anyhow so that’s okay.

So, look upon this Scale-Owl and forget your woes. Grumpy Wyvern wants you to be happy, believe it or not. But cheer up fast, because if you take too long it gets impatient and eats you.

Grumpdragon2

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