After nine months of accusations to my sweet nephew, a little house cleaning revealed the truth–my sloth and not his theft held my DS. Sorry Sam.
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Ashton, old girl, we will miss you. In Johnny’s best Scooby dumb voice, I can hear you say, “Jearmy, I am so glad to be out of the house where I can run through the parks and eat out of all of the trash cans.”
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