i feel weird, this weekend was weird and not so good and i feel kinda like a paper cup someone cut the bottom out of and all the me just fell out of it. not even for any specific reason just... some things suddenly in context. i dunno, this is unnecessarily cryptic and i now realise i don't particularly want to talk about it after all
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cookridge is an area of leeds very near where i live! it got its name because it's where all the cooks and chefs that worked in the king of leeds' kitchen used to work, and it was on a ridge out of the way so the garlic smell wasn'#t overpowering everybody, because this was before they found out what stainless steel was
por que? =o
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