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Each Move Must Consist Of Precisely Eight Words
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Just as it says on the tin. What happens in the game may be debated in the game: perhaps it'll be a conversation, perhaps a word-limited reprise of various games we play, or whatever.
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Shurely le huitisme must include the friendly octopus.
I have not worn my surgical stockings today.
My second-best truss is on the writing table.
Thanks for your support. I'll always wear it.
So who wore your surgical stockings today, Tuj?
Not me. I just word nylons and suspenders.
Does The Morniverse really need a pantomime dame?
…I feel like everyone is looking at me.
Oh no they're not! He's behind you!
My attention has been diverted by a leopard.
Can't be me...my fursona is a skunk.
Speaking of which, how is Projoy these days?
Alive, AFAIK. Posts occasionally.
He's alive and well. We tweeted last night.
Is that what it's called these days, then.
[Rosie] I suppose so. *Tweets regularly and often*
Bloody Christmas muzak in all the shops already.
I wish it couldn't be Christmas every day.
"Sleigh bells ring, are you listenin'?" Cheeses, no.
Well, now I want to change the subject.
I don't like losing my voice, at all.
I've looked everywhere and can't find it, KagomeShuko.
Look! There it is! Go stop it, quickly!
It turned out to be only an echo.
to be only an echo. only an echo.
If only Monday was an echo of Saturday.
You can say that again, pen. Bloody traffic!
Decent covering of snow this morning. Now thaw.
(pen) Same here in the Elevated Surrey Desert.
House tidy, presents wrapped. Shame we'll be away.
Too late for any more Xmas shopping now.
Merry Christmas. Hanukkah's been over for a while.
Too many mince pies. I'm farting currants now.
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