I know I was supposed to bring you for servicing today but the paper and the cough are killing me softly, man.

I am sitting here trying to type and breathe properly at the same time, and what with copious amounts of Vicks which I have liberally applied everywhere and the mess of books on my table and my wooziness, I am in no shape to bring you for your half-yearly check-up.

I promise I will bring you next week; in the meantime, you must promise to hold up until then.

I will clean you too until you are nice and sparkly and gleamy and all the women who fall in love with me will also fall in love with you.

Lol.

Ok roar. We can do it Pooters, you and me. Let’s go!