I spent my first night in my lodgings for the new year of university with between two and four cats on my bed at any one time. My hostess's fourteen-year-old son watches Supernatural and recognises a ukulele when he hears it, which bodes well, and poisoned us all barely an hour after I arrived by leaving a pan of oil on the hob unattended, which
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Truer words have never been spoken.
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Just, y'know, pointing that out.
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