Bruno gets nappy rash cream, I feel weird rubbing it into his balls, but, what can you do?
David is in the kitchen when I get home from the vet inhaling food. All I can hear is the coffee machine continually whining into action. David has quadruple shots.
"That's not drinking coffee," I tell him, "that is swapping one addiction for another."
It’s like living with locusts.
He slips quietly back to his room. I haven’t really seen him, he has been sleeping for the most part, and when he is not sleeping he asking for food.
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