Four Long Years, it's like a marriage

With a divorce, three separations and one custody battle....
Four years and counting (I'll never quit this as long as you're here)....I feel extra selectively social tonight on my anniversary.  Somewhat antsy actually.  But 'What' does it really mean, anyways?  My only answer is (should always be) naught...right?  My highlight tonight?  Hopey came by...and wanted to stay and chill with me...in spite of his master's command.
I know exactly what you're thinking, what's a Hopey?  Simple.  A Lhasa Apso, that's Who!  He acted as if You told him that he won the state lotto with how happy he was to see me.  Ronny all but choked him out in order to get him (Hopey) up and out.  Either way, he (Hopey) was happier than a pig in shit, hanging out by my feet!  Put that in your pipe and smoke it.
But...with all that said, the Mets still suck (sub five hundred, yet still in contention for second place...Wow, that's like trying to start a car...notice, I said 'trying'...yeah, the Mets are trying alright?  Trying to fuck over their fan base!).
The Greek Festival is in Port Washington (a town named after the first president of The United States) tonight and tomorrow...I better get my game face on and head over there....but, if my true love fails me (as they so often do)...I will be having a humble serving of grumpy pie, grieving how could the Lions have gotten to be so vicious.  It's a quarter after nine (technically, 9:18) and I can hear my brethren lighting their fireworks (as I sulk in the peace of darkness in my bedroom)...just waiting for just the right moment to click on the publish key...making this, us a committed deal.
I swear, by my powers invested in me...that this whole thing is a fabric of my innovative and creative imagination...and there is nothing that your investigation will prove otherwise.
Got it!
Good, keep it...and pipe it up as you toke it.

We have a strong, no return policy on this, that...and thus, on everything else.