I rested with my jaw on the floor last night and heard parts of the Giants-Rockies game on the radio. We need a TV, OK. This is bullshit.
My paw hurts. I'm on painkillers. But at least I have this new, carpeted "apartment" that Jim Dear and Darling (that's a Lady and the Tramp reference. The dog refers to his married owners by those names because that's what they call each other) keep calling it. It's actually a garage with a fenced in yard that I can hang out at during the day. Seems pretty sweet to me. I wonder what's in those paint cans ...
I have no idea what the Giants are up to because I have no Internet and this crummy radio.
Urgh.
Jax
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