Just a kitten I've been cat-sitting
I can’t have a cat of my own because my daughter is crazy allergic. This is killing me.
The details of my life are quite inconsequential… very well, where do I begin? My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low-grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen-year-old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet.
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I can’t have a cat of my own because my daughter is crazy allergic. This is killing me.