But anyway, not only can Mr. Rebbins read, he can also do other complicated mind tasks like: alphabetizing, laundry, washing the car, googling, feeding the cats and/or dogs, getting you past that level in San Andreas, and many other virtuoso-capable things. He can paint, be he would rather make other people paint. I was made to paint. That's why I'm still alive. Mr. Rebbins said I had to paint his portrait or else! "He had to paint my portrait, or else!" So I painted Mr. Rebbins, and he said the nickname that his crew always called him was "the attack rebbins", I told him that was stupid and he looked at me menacingly and told me to shutup and paint, but I changed it to "the attack giraffe" anyway...
... Oh my God, he found me, I don't know how but he found me! I never told him I changed his nickname. Oh my God on a shit stick, he looks pis--
BLOGGING DIFFICULTIES.... please stand by.
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