I'm still waiting for my package with the brush. Then one of these yellow post rascals pops over at my place and brings a package with daddies old Crapberry inside. Back from the Crapberry repair centre. For the umpteenth time. Who cares. Where's my brush . My fur looks just - pffff. Tomorrow he is due to the ne'er-do-yellow. Tomorrow there is no longer mercy. By my Grandfathers beard .
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