I know, kinda scary and very hard to believe that after 23 years I have to retire the poor old and deeply loved Billy Goat, Mr. Van. Not that I wish to do so, however something rather simple escaped me. When Mr. Billy Goat van dies, which could be any given day, I am out of a job. Out of a job translates to not being able to pay my mortgage, lender forecloses, I end up living with all my little fur bags in my 4-door sedan. Not a great plan. Continue reading
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