Gone fishin, one fish in!
There was a collective tugging of fore thingies last week as we finally had our Christmas staff celebration, possibly kindly paid for from the deep deep pockets of our board of thingies. I am sure that the recent doorstepping squaddies of god recently scabiously picking at my door would be pleased to learn that we went with the intention of releasing souls to wherever cranially adjusted piscines end up. Sadly, or depending on your particular standpoint on anthropomorphism and Turkish predestinarianism, happily, due to weather conditions, incompetence and in Christines case a sophistic reluctance, only Ross was able to introduce a rainbow to the clouds, changing the planned post slaughter barbecue from an apocalypse now type Vagnerian napalm crisp fest to just crisps.
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