New Year's horror: virgin paupers turn to gourds as balls drop -- details at 11
On December 27th, 2002, I walked to the mall to buy cat food. Today, on January 3rd, 2003, I arrive home with no cat food, a PICC line, 6 weeks of IV antibiotics, and a prescription to have a nurse come to my home daily, examine the brand spanking new abandoned-mine-like chasm in my lower lumbar region, clean it out, and stuff it full of material labelled, disturbingly enough, "vaginal packing".
come hither - back off
Yet there was no warning label on the Iams bag of kibble. I should sue.
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