Posted by Loulou on Jun 27, 2013 | 0 comments

(That’s not really me with Winston Churchhill, but you get the picture.) Oh, boy, here we go. On that thing that goes rowhhhhhhhhh all night long and undulates like a tiger stalking its prey, whatever a tiger is, but I know they undulate—like me, stretching. I just hope I can keep my dinner down this time. So does mama. So does Grimaldi… This...

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