It's alright if you just want a moment to gander at ol' Jake enjoying a bubblebath and shamelessly promoting my favorite Lush product, R&B.
Resting on the edge of the tub there is my favorite cane. I've had that son of a gun for 10 years. Bought it at the railroad station in Fort Bragg in 2005 and have been partners in long walks, plantar fasciitis and most of life's ups and downs ever since. After my heart surgery last year, we've been inseparable.
That is until last Sunday when I was making a provisioning run at Goodwill on Fair Oaks in Pasadena and some low life weasel took advantage of my sinking spell to swipe it. I warn you now, pole cat, that cane has a curse attached to it.
Whoever took it better have a need. You don't swipe a man's hat, his parrot, or his medical appliances and not incur the consequences of your actions. You can return it to me, no questions asked, and break the curse. You can give it to someone with a need (give, not sell) and maybe mitigate some of the damage. But don't count on it.
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