It's really windy outside. I like it.
So, I go to the garage to work on the coffee table, right? I open the door. I get my stuff together. I sit down on my little stool. I start sanding.
Then this little tiny mouse runs out of my garage into the yard. I'm completely stopped, because I just canNOT fathom having mice. I have MICE! Dude!
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(Yes, I am naughty!)
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and its in your living room!
Its Your fault, not Texas. But you see, I was ready to believe the very best about you.
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