Dear Spike,

I bought the zinger ringer flinger thinger because your face surgery has fucked up your ability to safely play with tennis balls, bursitis has fucked up my throwing arm and fatigue syndrome has fucked up my ability to bend over repeatedly.

I didn't buy it so you could fight the damn thing for possession of the rubber ring. If you'd actually let me PICK THE DAMN RINGS UP WITH IT you might get a fetch game again in this lifetime. Please?

(xposted to note_to_dog.)
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