In an attack of carelessness on Friday even, I tried to hold open a loaded door with my right little finger. Or perhaps the wrong one. Anyway, the result was the nail being half ripped off an uncomfortable way down into the nailbed and presumably a deal of blood on the inside of the relevant glove. Even cut down as far as I dare, there's still a
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It's between Much Dewchurch, Sunnyside and Cocksbrook Wood.
(It's Herefordshire. They specialise in odd names there.)
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That's when it hurt like galloping lubeless fuck.
Your keyboard clicks, doesn't it?
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I fear the k/b is a cheap and nasty squidgy-foam effort. PH-R jealously guards the IBM Model-M that I, um, liberated from somewhere or other.
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