Tonight I was in the middle of packing up my things with my bestest, and I got a call from Matt asking me if I wanted another dog. Good one, Matt, good one. My house would have to officially be registered as a zoo. But seriously, they found this little fluffer-nutter wandering the streets and tied a towel to its collar as a cape. The dog had no form of contacting its owners, and the town had no intention of taking in a dog at 11 in the evening. Which left us with the perdicament: What to do with James Blunt? (I took no part in naming it, I got it to answer to Tinkle-butt so I won't say anything...) After flagging down a fire marshall, we decided that Matt would give the dog a place to crash for the night.
I still have to write a three page paper on Rousseau.
-> A stow-away!
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