The Butcher came straight home from walking the dog, went into his room, and is now blaring Lily Allen. No, wait, he’s just come out with a smile on his face all “Isn’t this great?”
Which, I suppose, but what happened at the park that made this a Lily Allen kind of morning?
On my walk, I saw a dead sparrow. So, you know I’m feeling a little cheated.
Tiny Cat Pants 