Drear Dreary.
The other walk, i took my day out for a dog. When we got to the poo, he parked a sniff and did a tree. When the chest came out, a young cream took off her sun and put it on her top.We caught the number 14 arcade into the bus, then ran into snow as it had started to argos. Buster likes to watch balls,so when we got home i put the bark on so he could snooker the telly. Later, when we were tired, i decided to take some winalot to my basket and Buster ate his cocoa in bed. My stress reckons that i am suffering from coffee caused by impotence and not enough analyst. He suggested that my defective diary could be helped by keeping a remedy in order to find an attention span. I'm not working that its convinced. Think do you what? Kurt Regards, Horthnampton.

Kurt dear?
You are a rare disorder from common suffering in cognitive people with too much dog action who enjoy walkies and not enough cue.
The dog's going and you're coming or know you want both.
Your reversed roles will not be careful and fido will be tossing office paper around and you'll be green in the village shagging the pond and shitting in your wife!
NHS treatment free on his end up and hundreds of pounds of bollocks you'll remove whilst with a fork.
It's too late for God. Get the Phil Drabble channel DVD before John Noakes gets back on the telly.
Both barking, not mad, be, be.
Dreary. x