One time I made up a day. It's like a leap day. It's called Froosday. See, that way, you can put all the things you don't want to do on Froosday. "What, take the broken couch to the dump? Okay, I'll do it Froosday." This delightful little concoction brings together the best of Tuesday and Friday. Tuesday is about peak momentum for work in the week - the remaining days slide down to the weekend. And Friday is a pretty funky day for most people.
Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you: Froosday.
And since I don't have any pictures from Froosday, I'll share what I have from yon sevennight. I don't think sevennight is a Shakespearean reality: 12th night is, and of course, a fortnight.

Here is yon faithful, brave canine Daisy. She's pantomiming the dog days of summer in the fort that John and I built in our living room last weekend.
My chivalrous kin, Ethan, did most certainly practice the arts of henna upon my hand. These curs'd spots will remove more easily than Lady MacBeth's, and should be gone by next Froosday.

Here laboureth my love upon a sporting device, in which to practice his disc golf throws for yon tournament of honour.
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