Kā tas ir?

My cats! Trim your nails! We cannot start the battle! Our future needs some comfort; our hearts will bleed in sorrow. Don’t eat each other’s necks for lunch. Start packing fur for winter. Coldness predicted in the nearest future. Dark stains upon sweet pale cheeks are washed by watercolour rain. Don’t loose your temper bitch let your spirit free. Help in bed yourself.