|One of these things just doesn't belong here|
|Yep. That's right. Just me....and the garage. Time for some Barry White.|
The hoomans don’t like me being in the garage. They think I’m going to get up to mischief in there with all the bits and pieces lying around. There's also the matter of pawprints and scratches on the beloved car. But the more they try to shut me out and stop me, the more I realise that I cannot live without my garage.
O how I love thee, Garage! O how my throat becomes hoarse when I forlornly cry your name over and over while we are apart!
|That's a 9.75 for the dismount.|