Come on, let's say you are going to revitalize this dying blog. Not that I have no ideas of stuff to tell, simply too lazy, it's stronger than you.
But now I have the inspiration. And who knows, pitêtre that next week, I found a job and suddenly, I would have more time for anything. Mouahahah, I'm funny.
So since not later than one year, I moved with my hairy El Marido and dirty beast. Super small apartment in Versailles itself, we were amazed at these large windows (look, look, you can open them without the passers throw their garbage in the living room), quiet (écoute. What? Ben precisely nothing. Rââââh) and sanitary conditions (I opened the cupboard and guess what? Not what? There's no mold in it! No If!). It's great.
This magnificent place is even more wonderful when you know that you are entitled to the central heating that is included in the charges, blah, economies, blah, showers three hours, blah. Strobe.
Except.
One morning, I found that the beast was a dirty dirty mouth before his bowl. He knits his nose to his kibble is highly suspect, the bottom of my Patal morning, as Grissom, I investigate, I inspect, I sruti. Basically, I look to see why it squeaks, poor beast. And I see this:
That's a good layer of ice in the saucer. Oh yeah, anyway. I think the concept of central heating has been greatly exaggerated ...
What can rest assured, no one froze to death even if it's not gone away (7 ° in the bathroom in the morning is invigorating), since it blocked the ventilation before which the bowl was the bug. He could stop sucking sherbet floats and quietly resumed his drinking after dipping the paw into the bowl. Yeah, it's better when it has a taste of leg, everyone knows that.
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